


Your Homecoming Will Be My Homecoming

by HeartoftheNight



Series: There Are Many Like It, But This One Is Mine [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon Het Relationship, Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Family, Family Fluff, Gen, Het, Homecoming, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Pack Building, Pack Dynamics, Pack Feels, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-12
Updated: 2014-01-16
Packaged: 2017-11-14 02:57:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/510579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartoftheNight/pseuds/HeartoftheNight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She doesn't realize she's come home until she's standing in front of the familiar two story house, nestled in amongst a hundred others like it, but this one was hers.  Others have the same paint scheme and plenty have better yards, but this is the place where she was almost born.<br/>The first part of "There Are Many Like It, But This One Is Mine" series, aka, Cadie's introduction to Beacon Hills.<br/>No slash and crossposted like hell.  And AU after season 2</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lost and insecure, you found me

**Author's Note:**

> Rewrote this a couple of times, hope its good. Sorry for tense changes I guess? Sometimes they shift when I write. Also, title taken from another E.E. Cummings poem.  
> Chapter title taken from the Fray's "You found me"

She doesn't realize she's come home until she's standing in front of the familiar two story house, nestled in amongst a hundred others like it, but this one was hers. Others have the same paint scheme and plenty have better yards, but this is the place where she was almost born. Where her mom's water broke and her head almost crowned before dad got them to the hospital. Its where they came back just hours later with her wrapped tight in her parents love. Its simple and unimpressive, but within the walls in need of paint is a hundred memories made in six short years. They have been her anchor, the only light in a world of darkness. They have kept her sane and they have kept her human for eighteen years. Such a long time to hold when such a brief amount was given to sustain.

Sometimes she wonders if her parents had known they wouldn't always have her. That their first, their daughter, would be ripped away from them at such a young age and had piled her with all the love she'd need. Said the things she needed to hear and hugged her tight an extra amount of times to make up for when they couldn't. Its illogical, impossible really, for those thoughts to be true. The reality is, is they had been warm and loving naturally. That they had thought they had had all the time in the world to spend with her. And that's more comforting than anything else because it makes her think again if they had known how much more they would have given. Everything if what she already had was to judge. They would have given everything.

Its why she should not be here, cannot fathom why she is. Its like there is a hook in her chest and this place has a hold of the line and reeled her in. She'd run from Colorado full of fear. Terror licking her escape and had not thought of where to go. Only to evade, hide, find someplace safe. It had brought her here. Brought her home. But it wasn't hers anymore. _Never would be._

She tries to pretend that they moved. Imagines the moving truck in the driveway and her parents loading boxes with her baby brother nestled in a stroller under their watchful eye. Creates the feeling of sadness as they pack up their life and move away. Move on without the little girl they had adored. But its a lie because that's her dad's cruiser next to a beat up old jeep that she doesn't remember. Her mom's station wagon is gone, but that's the scent of her lasagna cooking in the kitchen. There's a whiff of the Barbasol shaving cream her dad had always used and his Old Spice deodorant. The warm worn in leather of his winter jacket for the cool Northern Californian winters. There's a faint scent of Chloe, her mom's favorite perfume and strong burn of the Old English wood polish she'd painstakingly rubbed into the floor and furniture. Sweat and boy-smell come from the upstairs window left open telling her that her baby brother has grown up. Life has continued on without her like she had hoped it would, but she's still left wrecked in the waking nightmare that they never knew about.

Her eyes close against the sight of that house ( _home_ ) and the tears fall like they haven't since she was first ripped away. Since she was told she was a monster and could never, ever go back. That they'd never take her as she is. She's lived every day since then denying the nature she's been told is now hers, that she could be good and not hurt people. But the truth is, if she stays they'll die. Andrew wont' let them live if he knows she's been here and there's enough left in her, enough of what her parents gave her to not linger. To not invite that here. This last glimpse, this slip up is all she can let herself have.

She means to turn and walk away. To slip into the shadows once more and fade from this place like the ghost they must think she is. To become but an echo of what might have been but never will be. But then they step out and she's frozen in the spot as terror and complicated joy pulse through her. Dad and what must be Genim, taller than her now. All limbs and goofy grin as dad claps him on the shoulder before climbing into the cruiser and driving off. The teenager, her baby _brother,_ is not long in following and she aches to think of him as old enough to drive. Hopping into the jeep and tearing off in the opposite direction, music playing too loud and engine revving more than necessary. They leave behind a house with all the lights turned off and no scent or sound of anyone within.

Cadie takes strangled breaths against the burning in her lungs as she wonders at the absence of her mom. Wonders if perhaps she's already out and the station wagon is parked in some one else's driveway. If she works at the library again like she used to before Genim came into their lives. Pushes away the dread that maybe the reason why her mom's scent is faded is because she's not there anymore.

The tears have left dried salt tracks on her skin, making her face stiff and still she stands, watching the Stilinski home. But its clear that no one is coming back, that for now, its empty. All that's left is a lingering grief that she can't think about if she wants to move on. She doesn't, but its the only choice left to her. Everything was taken away all those years ago on the side of a snowy mountain road. Doubts and questions linger though, keeping her where she is instead of moving on like she should. If _(when)_ she leaves, she knows she's never coming back. She won't make the same mistake again, take the same stupid chances. This is it. Her last glimpse of home. She wants more memories than what she has even if they're not hers.

The back door is unlocked and when thought became action she doesn't know. Doesn't remember slipping around the house and vaulting the high wooden privacy fence. All she knows is the cool knob is in her hand and the familiar creak as the door swings in and her nose is assaulted with all the scents that only an animal like her could pick up. The dust of cleaning long neglected, the must of rooms unused. The old law books from her grandpa on her dad's side in the office. The lasagna dinner and the cheeses and sauce used within. The lingering scent of onion and tomato and pepper from the salad. Exercise gear and old sneakers left in the hall to the front door. Old Chinese take out from the living room. Mens body wash wafting from upstairs and the thick odor of laundry detergent on the door to her left. But covering them all were _Home_ and _Dad_ and _Genim_ and ever so faintly, _Mom._ They're emotions layered into the house, the wood of the floor, the carpet in the living room, the paint on the walls. They're each unique, separate entities of love and comfort, parceled together to make a whole. The wolf within murmurs _Pack_ , a word that means _Family_ , but has never been for her. Its been a source of fear and humiliation, but still it lingers within her mind. Like this is proof of what its supposed to be, but never has like a dream unfulfilled and instead made nightmare.

She closes her eyes against it all, still standing on the threshold, the door in her hand. There's still a chance to walk away from all this, to not be reminded of all she's lost and how its all left her behind. And in another sense, she's already taken the steps down a road that there's no way to turn around on. She made her choice when she didn't walk away before she saw them leave the house. There's only one way to end this now.

The door snicks quietly closed behind her and she has the belated thought that she should remember to lock it when she leaves. Its ridiculous, but its there. Her hand reaches out and traces the walls as she walks slowly forward, leaving a scent trail should anyone come looking. Its dangerous, but if Andrew has followed and found her in California then there will be no hiding where she has run anyway and she wants to leave even this small piece of herself. No one but her will ever know that the lost child ever came back. All there will be as evidence is this phantom trail.

She doesn't turn on lights as she finds her way through the house, aching at how nothing has changed. She can see everything with the small light from the streetlamps pooling through the curtains on the windows. Can see that the paint is the same color as her fuzzy memories and the furniture is as she left it. There's no barbies scattered across the couch in the living room and the dollhouse no longer takes pride and center before the TV. There's case files strewn across the dining room table and a bottle of bourbon beside them, half empty. Her dad's scent lingers strongest there.

It isn't easy to turn away from that room and the kitchen; two places where some of the best memories were made. But it hurts to see the images in her mind layered over the empty space, hear the sound of their voices echoing in the emptiness.

She pulls away from her dad's unused office, unwilling to see what he's kept of grandpa there. It holds the last memory she has of dad and grandpa together and it tears at her already shredded heart.

The steps leading up to the bedrooms tell the story of the lives lived within the house. Pictures stretch the length, chronicling the shining moments of a culmination of lives well lived and loved. They falter at the beginning, the freshest a scattering of the teenage boy she doesn't recognize, but knows all the same and her dad receiving his sheriff's badge. Her mom isn't in any at the bottom of the stairs.

Halfway up the frames become familiar, the grainy images within clear in her mind. Her holding Genim at a family barbeque, dad failing at being serious with his arm slung around grandpa and a friend from work. Mom cooking in the kitchen, looking exasperated at the camera. Her first school picture. Steps higher and her baby picture. Another and its her parents honeymoon and higher, a series of wedding photos and family members she barely remembers. Near the top, fuzzy washed out photos of her mom and dad in school and in front of the diner they fell in love in. They start the tears anew, flowing thick and unhindered. She wipes at them, but can't shake the thought of how she's walked through lives she never knew and back in time to ones she did.

Unfamiliar scents assail her nose as she walks past the first door. Its cracked and she can see dark and blue walls and _Boy_ rolls out from within, thick and pungent. She moves on because she won't find anything she knows if she looks within. She doesn't know Genim anymore, only the faded memories of the baby he'd been and isn't anymore.

The next door is closed and she can smell the disuse within. It clutches tight around her heart and squeezes, makes her hand tremble as it reaches for the knob. The cold is shocking and she twists and pushes in the rush to pull away.

Its black within. The curtains are drawn tight and no light glows within anymore and even her heightened eyes cannot penetrate the gloom. The light is blinding when she hits the switch by the door. But when her eyes clear her breath stops. Everything is the same.

The walls are still painted baby pink and purple. Homemade wooden letters declaring _Princess Cadie_ are still tacked up on one and Sleeping Beauty decorates her bed. The dollhouse is in one corner with the barbies and My Little Ponies neatly placed around it. Her drawing book is open on the table with an obscene amount of crayons and markers around it. Posters of kittens and butterflies decorate the walls and a ragged teddy bear sits atop her pillows. Everything is as she left it almost twenty years ago, even the frame of her parents on the bedside table, there to always watch out for her. The scent of her mom lingers strongest here, but it is faint, faded. A memory and no longer a presence.

Her sob is audible, catches up and knots in her throat and she retreats from the room, pulling the door closed behind her and sealing everything away again. She knows she should leave now, that this is enough. She is remembered and still loved. They haven't let go, haven't packed and sealed her away. They've kept her with them and still wait for her to come back. She has, but they can never know. They can't. For them and for her. She needs to go and yet her feet are carrying her in the opposite direction. Away from the stairs and escape and instead to the end of the hall and her parents bedroom.

_Dad_ is strongest here. Its not just scent, but feeling, though the grief permeates everything. And the denial is there in her throat, screaming to be let out, but her eyes zero in to the dresser and her mom's jewelry box and the gold band placed atop it. The sob that never quite escaped turns into a howl screaming within her soul she cant let loose. If she does, she wont _(couldn't)_ stop. So instead she stumbles forward because backwards wasn't an option since she set foot within. Makes for the proof she doesn't want to find.

Underneath the wedding band is a thick piece of paper simply saying “ _In Loving Memory”._ Her mom smiles up from underneath the devastating words, like a denial of the horror they are. Shaking wet fingers reach out to trace the black and white photo, like she could still feel the texture of her skin within the gloss of the paper. She can't and she cries harder, shakes until her legs can't support and she crumbles to the floor. The sobs are racking as the one hope she's carried all this time crumbles and fades to ashes. The dream that the rest of her family had been whole and safe without her, that they'd had each other when she'd had no one. It had given her comfort to know that they were not alone like her. But it was all a lie. Dad and Genim had been left to themselves, mom taken and gone. For years. For years she'd been dead and she never knew. Never knew.

The tears didn't stop, just eased. The sobs turning from shudders to quakes. The grief pulling back enough for her to realize she'd stayed to long. That she needed to move, to leave so that no one else would be taken away. So that dad and Genim would have each other at least. Its what she needs to do, what she intends to do until she hears the front door open and the footfalls coming up the stairs. There's no time to run, no time to hide. She scooted backwards, away from the line of sight from the door and back against the wall between the nightstand and the bed. Its backing herself into a corner and its stupid, stupid, stupid. She's so stupid. She should never have come here, never stepped foot inside. She should have known it would lead to this. Anyone could see that. She couldn't be seen, couldn't _see_ herself or she'd never leave. She wouldn't be able to see her dad face to face and walk away. She knew she wouldn't. She couldn't be seen, couldn't see herself. Couldn't, couldn't, couldn't, couldn't. Oh god.

When the footfalls step within the bedroom she feels like she should have known that this was her fate. That of course this is what would happen. That there wasn't a chance in hell he'd walk by and go to the bathroom first. That no, of course he'd have to make for the dresser and there she was, plain as day. If he didn't turn on the light there's a chance he wouldn't see.

She saw his boots coming closer and she ducked her head down against her knees, clamping a hand over her mouth to hold in the whimpers. Her dad was so close and his scent was wafting over her, promising comfort until he found out what she was. Then there would be nothing but hate and disgust, just like Andrew had always said. What else could a human feel for a werewolf? She whimpered again even though she bit down on her hand. The footsteps stopped and a muttered “what the hell?” preceded the light flooding the room.

She bit down harder on her hand, keeping her face tucked against her knees and told herself if she couldn't see him then he couldn't see her. Its denied by his sharp intake of breath and the spike of fear in his scent. She cringes away from it, whimpering again, because dad isn't supposed to be scared, especially of her. But he is and she's a monster.

She hears him shuffle a step towards her, cautious, wary. His presence envelopes her, coating her in familiar warmth like a blanket being dropped across her shoulders. All she wants to do is look up, see his smile, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. Curl against his chest and listen to him say its okay. Everything is okay. But nothing is. She's been gone for eigteen years and she's a werewolf and her mom is dead. Nothing is ever going to be okay.

“Who are you?” His tone is reserved, but kind, only a few feet away. She wonders if he has his gun out and quakes harder, pressing closer into the wall at her back. There's no place to run, no way to hide and she doesn't know what to do. She can't let him see her face. Can't, can't, can't. Can't see him or its all over.

“If you're looking for money, I haven't got much.” Again, kind. Understanding. Its daddy to the core. “But if you're hungry, my son made this fantastic lasagna and I've got plenty to share.”

The offer kicks a plaintive whine into her throat that she can't quite silence. Only her dad would offer food to some one that broke into his house instead of breaking out the cuffs. Its so familiar that it makes her ache and press away so she doesn't move forward.

“You look like you could use something to eat, a warm place to sleep. Can't say I can offer that last one, but I know a nice shelter.”

He thought she was homeless. Didn't recognize her and the rational part of her brain knew that all he could see was a huddled ball in ragged clothes. Dirty and she probably smelled. But he always did have a soft spot for lost and broken things and she snuffles as she realizes she is just that.

“Sounds pretty good, huh? Good food, a bed. If you like it around here maybe we could even find you a job. Like the sound of that?”

She nodded against her knees. To appease him, maybe even ease that fear that still pulsed out of him in slow bursts. Knew it worked when she felt a small gust of air against her hair as he crouched down, pushing calm outwards. You soothed scared people like you did animals and she was both. She was both. She whined again with the need to uncurl and press towards him, take what he was offering. It had been years, she'd been a child. He wouldn't recognize her and she could take what he was offering without him ever knowing. She could. It wouldn't hurt, it would get her out. Just this once she could take something for herself, right? Just this once.

“Why do you have that?” The sudden shift in his tone, sharp and a little angry, startles her, pulls her back. Her hands curl tighter and she feels the thick paper clutched in her fingers and realizes what he's talking about. Her mom's memorial picture. Her heart hitches, fear pumping through her veins. He knows something is off now. She left the ring, solid gold, and took the picture. Was crying over it. Oh god, oh god, oh god.

“Honey, you need to tell me why you have that.” The calm is gone and a note of hysteria is there in his voice. A riot of emotions are pumping out of him and she can't even begin to sort them out. It feeds her own, makes her panic, lose focus on everything around her. The only thing she can think of is to get away. She lifts her head enough to glance at the door and then suddenly everything is ripped away. Hands catch her face and turn it and her eyes are filled with her dad's stunned expression. It looks like he's been punched in the gut, breath leaving him in an explosive rush, ridden hard by tears appearing in his eyes.

“Cadie?” His voice is anguished, ripped up and torn apart, but there's fierce desperate hope pulsating out of him like a nova.

She shakes her head, sobbing. “No, no, no. I'm not her. I'm not.” She's not, she's not, she's not. She's not the little girl he remembers. She's a monster in that girl's skin. A demon possessing the body. Anything but what he thinks she is.

“The hell you're not.” She hears the tears clogging and breaking his voice more than she sees them, blinded by her own.

She shakes her head again, a mute denial. If she speaks again....

“You have your mother's face.” The statement is heartbroken for a hundred different reasons. “I'd know it anywhere.”

She sobs harder, clenching her eyes closed.

“But know how I know? Know how I know you're my Cadie?”

She shakes her head again. An answer to his question and a denial of his words. It doesn't do any good.

“Because you're my daughter. You're my baby girl. And you still have that scar on your chin from when you fell off the swing at school.” Its barely audible, that last statement as he strokes the mark with his thumb. Its mangled by the tears and his broken voice and she can't. She just can't deny it anymore.

She sobs harder and surges forward, burrowing into his chest and breaking apart as his arms come around to catch and hold her. Pulled her in tight, too tight and not enough and pressed his cheek to her dirty hair and rocked. Rocked and cried and whispered her name over and over again. Like a prayer, a praise. She clung and sobbed, letting him hold her, letting the past years fall away. Make them like they never were if only for a moment. She's six years old again and everything was a nightmare. A nightmare.

“Daddy,” she whimpered.

The steady staccato of “its okay” and “you're home, baby girl” hitches to a stop. His calming voice catches and she can feel the sob tearing at his chest. It feels like muscle ripping, skin taring, organs bursting. Its ugly and painful and she's the cause of it. She did that. She's the one that hurt him, not Andrew. Not Andrew. She can't. Can't hurt him, can't be the cause. Can't, can't, can't. Have to keep him safe. Keep Genim safe. Have to, have to, have to. She promised. She promised.

She closes down thought, lets the wolf take over. She needs its strength, its drive to protect to rip away from her dad, ignore his hoarse yell. She's sobbing as she bursts from the bedroom, half wolfed and all pain. Flies down the stairs and towards the front door. Before she can get there though, it opens. The sight of the startled teenager (no, _Genim_ ) halts her steps.

He stood with the door open, wide and careless, so unaware of what was out there, backpack halfway to being slung onto the floor. He looks and smells scared and she figures it won't be hard at all to dart past him and escape. Run from this place, from dad, from everything she can't have because she'll rip it all apart if she stays. But then dad is stumbling down the stairs after her and everything changes. The boy's stance, his scent, everything morph from scared to pissed and protective. She's a threat until she's proven not and he's slipping something out of his pocket. It only takes her a moment to recognize the taser for what it is.

“Stiles, no.”

It takes her a moment too long to connect her dad's command, to realize he's talking to Genim. She has a wild, terrified thought that this isn't the baby brother she remembers. That he's gone like mom and this is a different one. One she never got to meet, to even know existed. But there's no time, nothing left. She has to get away no matter what. Her wolf receded with the shock of her brother's arrival and she reaches for it again, but her dad's voice breaks through.

“Stop, please.”

His plaintive tone stilled her, made a low whine build within her chest. She looked over her shoulder at him, realized how she was boxed between him and the boy. And she's torn. Torn between the urge to flee and the one to launch herself at her father and curl against him again. She can't do either, can't make a choice. She's stuck, stuck, stuck, stuck. Oh god, she can't take it. She needs to move, to do something, anything. Anything at all.

“Dad, what's going on?” The boy (Genim, is it Genim?) is calmer than any seventeen year old should be in this type of situation. The taser is still out, but its not quite raised, not quite sure if she's a threat. She is, she is. She'll be the death of them all.

“Its....” Her dad's voice broke around the word he wanted to say and he took a faltering step forward.

She whined aloud, in warning or need she didn't know. Didn't know which way she'd be pulled. Towards what she wanted or what she was supposed to do. She was a mess, a monster.

“Its her, isn't it?” There's wonder in the boy's voice, cautious hope, calm surety even though he asked a question. “Its Cadie.”

Her name hitches a sob in her chest, an answering call in her dad. “Please,” she whispered. “Please, let me go.” Its ridiculous that she's begging to be freed. She's stronger and faster than both of them, could probably get past that taser without issue. But she's trapped by their startled, broken open selves. Their longing hoping gazes and bleeding hurt. They want her to stay, but they have no idea what she is, what will happen if she does.

The boy (is it Genim, is it?) lowers the taser, tears shining in his eyes. “Sorry, sis. Can't do that.”

She sobbed again. At the refusal or the casual endearment, she doesn't know. “Genim, please.”

He sucked in a breath, sharp and filled with grief. “Still a no.”

The tears broke free and where she found more she didn't know. She thought she was done with them, done with falling apart for at least a moment. Long enough to get away at least.

“Cadie, please. Just.... just calm down and talk to us, baby.” Her dad, soothing and pushing out calm, but it was ridden hard by... everything.

He took a cautious step forward and she inched away, shaking her head and he stilled again. Hands out placatingly and she hated it. Hated that he thought she'd strike out. She was an animal, she knew it, but she'd never hurt him. Never, never, never. Couldn't. He was dad and that was Genim and they were all she had left in the world. All her family. All her pack.

There's a howl building in her throat that's begging to be released, is halfway there when the scent hits her nose and sickening panic settles in her gut. Its familiar and its not and its all the warning she gets before the werewolf is barreling through the half open door. Terror that its Andrew or another of the pack floods her and there's no thought in letting the wolf out. Of leaping forward and shoving Genim (its him, its really him) out of the way and running headlong into the newest arrival. She heard her dad shouting, Genim yelling and flailing as he fell into some sort of furniture and then she's enveloped in her attacker. He snarls as her claws sink into his chest, but barely stumbles as the full of her weight hits him. He's heavy, solid like a stonewall. She screamed as he grabbed her wrists and yanked her away, tossing her like a ragdoll.

The landing took her breath away, but she wasted no time in getting up. She was used to the paralyzing breathlessness, the terrifying helplessness. None of it mattered compared to the two humans safety.

All she caught was black leather and dark hair before she was being tackled to the floor again. She growled as she bucked and twisted, hating the feeling of him across her back, her belly pressed to the floor. Plenty of practice had her worming out of his hold and spinning away to crouch between him and her family. Only waited a breath before launching herself forwards again. If she could keep him distracted long enough they could get away. If she fought hard enough maybe it would hurt him enough that it would slow him down. It was the least she could do for bringing this here. Sacrifice to save them. It would make everything worthwhile then.

The other werewolf caught her midstrike. Grappling at her wrists and taking the kick she threw at his stomach. She snarled and wrenched. When that didn't work she prepared to lunge forward, but the deafening roar thwarted her. The power of an Alpha washed over her, full and angry, cowering her wolf into submission. Terror streaked through her as she realized the only thing worse than Andrew finding her was wandering into the territory of another pack. But this werewolf was in her family's house and she had to protect them, had to keep them safe, Alpha or no.

She bucked and twisted until she was free, reaching for the wolf within, but it was beyond her grasp. She panted, rolling into a crouch, staring up at the werewolf before her. He was still in the partial transformation, the Beta stage. Distorted features and red eyes, extended claws. Tall and dark and strong and she was small, helpless, human. But she had to. Had to stand and fight, protect. She growled a challenge at him, wishing for teeth. He snarled an answer and began to advance.

“Derek, stop!”

Her world suddenly tilted, became muddled, confused. It only intensified as the Alpha relaxed, letting the wolf slide from his features, the red turn to hazel. Claws still extended, stance at the ready. Blood darkened the gray shirt he wore under the black leather. Brows drawn he glanced from her to the boy that stood somewhere behind her.

“Why?” Voice low, still shifted. Warning, threatening.

“Because she's my sister. My sister who is apparently a werewolf.”

Logically she knew she couldn't faint, not without serious injury, but her world blackened out. She lost sense of everything long enough to have her dad move across the room and crouch before her and Genim, no _Stiles,_ hovering uncertainly. She looked wildly around her, found the Alpha looming behind her brother and scrambled backwards, away from all three of them, whimpering.

“Shh, Cadie, its alright. Its daddy. Nothings going to hurt you.”

The tears across her body belied that claim. She whined, low and hurt and made to scramble away when her dad reached for her. But she was caught up in his arms, pulled in tight to his broad chest and tucked in. Still she struggled, sobbing.

“Daddy, please. Please let me go.”

He pressed his cheek to her hair, stroking down the ratty tangles. “Not a chance in hell, baby girl. Not ever again.”

She sobbed harder at his warm soothing tone. “You have to. You have to. Please. I'm a monster. I'm a monster, daddy. You don't want me. You don't.”

Its vindication that burns like acid when he pulls away and she's waiting for the barrage of disgust and fear, but instead she gets his hands cupping her face. Its what he always did when he wanted her undivided attention to impart some wisdom on her. “No you're not, Cadie.”

She shook her head at his calm words, his warm honest eyes. “Yes I am. I am. You saw. Daddy, you _saw._ ”

He smiled. It was a bruised and crooked thing, but there all the same. “I did, baby. I saw my little girl be the same reckless heathen ball of fury she's been since she could crawl. There's more teeth and nails for sure, but you're still Cadie. You're still my baby girl and nothing is going to change that.”

Her whole body stilled at his words, at the sound of his heart beating fast but steady. No ticks or hitches until she let out a strangled sob and surged forward. He caught her, he always had and she cried harder. “Daddy. Dad. Dad.”

“Sh, baby girl, shh.” All else was lost under that steady reassurance as she cried again, eighteen years worth falling away. Eighteen years of fear and surety that she'd never be accepted. That her family would deny her if she ever went back to them. But there she was, sitting on the living room floor with her dad telling her it was alright. Alright that she was a werewolf. And Genim (no, _Stiles_ ) knew. Knew what she was and... and... and oh god, there was still an Alpha.

She tore away from her dad and scrambled back again. He looked confused and hurt and she couldn't. Just couldn't.

“What's going on? Why isn't he killing you?” The thought makes her want to surge forward again, put herself between the Alpha and her family, but he's not doing anything, just watching the drama unfold. And he'd listened to her brother.

Stiles looked between her and the Alpha. “Derek? Why would he?”

The question caught her off guard, wiped any possible rational explanation. It was simply obvious to her anyway. “Because you're human.”

“Right. Awesome explanation that's not terrifying me at all. Derek, mind giving us some space here?”

The older man glanced between them, frowning. “I can't.”

“Uh, yes you can.” The bizarreness of her dad speaking to a werewolf, to an Alpha, so casually made her want to faint again. This... this was not what she'd been expecting at all.

“The pack knows there's another werewolf. If they find her while I'm not here....”

“Instinct to protect their territory is gonna take over and that... that wouldn't be good.” Stiles looked suitably alarmed as he finished.

Her dad sighed roughly, face haggard and exposed. “Then give us some space. My daughter has been missing for eighteen years-” his voice cracked “-and right now, we need a moment, alright? Just a moment to figure this all out. To....”

“Seriously cry some more?” Stiles offered up, own voice going a little ragged.

Dad laughed, all choked and messed up and pulled his son into a one armed grateful hug. Derek nodded and retreated to another room and Cadie felt a desperate whine build up. It crept from within her heart and up her throat and settled in her mouth, thick and suffocating. Building as she watched the last of her family leaning on each other to survive the wreck she'd just made of their lives. And she should leave. Go before she made it worse.

“Cadie, if you try to run again instead of coming over here, I'm sicking Derek on you to bring you back.”

There's an hysterical urge to laugh, but it gets tangled up with the urge to scream and what comes out is some twisted version of both, freezing her where she is. It turns into a keen, long and loud until suddenly dad is there. Lifting her up and holding her tight and all she can do is cling, hard and tight. They settle on the couch and then Stiles is there too and he's hugging dad with her in the middle. And really, its the best place to cry, to really let it all go because its okay, because they're crying to.

When it stops, when it eases from full body shudders to random aftershocks, she's drained and soaked. There's the scent of grief, strong and cloying, but there's also a strange joy threaded through, warm and bright. She's pressed tight to her dad and her brother is plastered along her back, cheek tucked in against her nape. It hitches fear under her heart because she's so exposed, at their mercy. Its been such a long time that she's been shown any. But all she wants to do is nestle down farther, curl tighter. And dad seems to have the same feeling. He's just stroking her hair quietly, as cried out as her, holding tight in that comforting way he always had. That is home to her, a piece of a whole that's broken but still standing.

“Where have you been?” Its Stiles that asks the question, murmurs it into her shoulder.

It made her tense, pull in and away from them. Gather herself together and wonder how easily she fell apart.

“Cadie?” Its dad this time, low and concerned.

She pulled her knees to her chest, wrapped her arms around them, still bracketed by the two people who meant the most to her in this world. Funny that it should be so when she didn't know them anymore. Didn't know if she could trust, who they were. But the wolf inside, the duality of her nature was calm on all fronts and she had never felt that. Instinct had saved her more than once, guided her actions more than reason and she steadfastly put her faith in it. “How much do you know?” She whispered into her knees, the jeans torn and smelling. There was blood there, from the wounds not quite knitting closed yet.

It was dad that answered, slow and cautious, voice still ten shades of wrecked. “Almost nothing. The police found the car and.... and what was left of dad.”

Her heart lurched, the brief bloody memories surging forward and licking at her mind.

“They said a bear, but.... It never sat right with me. We did a search for you, for days. Weeks. Months. Hoped that you'd run away and had gotten lost, but we.... We never found a trace of you.” The tears were back in his voice. “We had to give up eventually. The local police wouldn't, couldn't look anymore and the feds backed out once it was ruled an animal attack. But we never gave up. We never did.” Again the even gait of his heart, the simply sweet scent of honesty and she nodded wordlessly against her knees, waiting for him to go on. “But we never heard anything. Not once. And now.... Now you show up, whole and beautiful.”

Tears pricked anew and she shook her head. “No. I'm a monster.”

“Only in the old horror movie technicality.”

Something foreign bubbled in her as she stared at her brother's apologetic face, so expressively so and she took the moments she hadn't yet to really see him. He had mom's nose and eyes and that brought a hitch of grief, but the rest was so uniquely him. Like her he had the slenderer stature than dad. All slim bone and ridiculous metabolism. Energy bumped under his skin, made his body twitch with it reminding her of the pups in her pack. Her old pack. They weren't hers anymore.

“How do you know about me, us? Werewolves?” Its quiet and worried and reminds her there's still an Alpha nearby acting, well, not like any Alpha she knew. Her experience was limited to one it was true, but she'd been sure that was enough for a lifetime.

“I blame that lurking wall of leather clad muscle over there.”

She followed the line of Stiles' thumb to the Alpha and tried not to shudder at his intense gaze. Quietly intimidating, packed tight with wariness and an edge of curiosity. She couldn't hold his eyes, the wolf within rolling onto its proverbial back to bare its belly in submission. “Why?”

“Why do we know about werewolves?” Dad tripped over that last word, still caught in its ridiculous improbability.

She nodded.

“Because his uncle, a real favorite of man. Werewolf of the year type, really.” The Alpha, Derek rumbled a low warning growl that had her hackles rising with the threat. But Stiles talked on, oblivious. “Yeah, I know, don't talk ill of the twice dead, but come on, the guy was a couple cans short of a sixpack.” Dead silence. “Okay, moving on. Crazy psychotic uncle bit my best friend a couple years ago while on a revenge kick. Yeah, he was the old Alpha. Liked to murder and munch on humans. A real sweet caring individual.”

“Stiles.” Dad sounded tired in his warning.

“Okay, okay.” Hands raised to emphasize. “Long, really long horrifying story short, Derek's uncle turned my best friend, Derek tried to intermittently help or kill us, we did the same, yadda yadda. Trust issues galore, we helped him take down the Alpha and he became the Man. Turned a bunch of my friends into violent delinquents, his uncle came back from the dead and got toasted again by an Alpha pack and voila! You have the Hale Pack, a creepy brooding dude in his twenties leading a bunch of teenagers. And me, who is thankfully still somehow human.”

She blinked at him, nonplussed. “Are you....?”

“Always like this? Yep.”

Her lips quirked in an unfamiliar gesture at the weary answer. “Okay.”

Dad laughed and Stiles let out a breath. “Seriously? No 'oh my, god' or the classic 'shut up, Stiles'?”

She tipped sideways into him, realizing that she was smaller than him now. Let her head tuck under his chin for a breath and felt more than heard his shaky exhale.

“Oh wow. Dad always said you'd be an awesome sister.”

She wanted to laugh, but tears threatened and she couldn't, just couldn't do that again. Not right now, not until she had some more answers, so she pulled away and refocused on Derek.

“So you... you don't hurt humans? Or is it... is it just because he helped you?” Everything, _everything_ depended on his answer.

“No and no.” Quietly sincere even though he was tense all over.

“So you.... you don't hunt... them?”

Surprise flitted across his face, brief and expressive in his drawn brows. “No.”

“Wow, a little more shock at that question would have been appreciated. What the hell, Derek? What does she mean by 'hunting humans'?” There's a tinge of hysteria there in her brother's voice.

Derek frowns at him, but Cadie and her dad are staring at him too, waiting for his answer. “There's a reason there's hunters.”

She suppressed a shudder but can't quite ignore the flash of strung up bodies, pups and adults alike.

“I thought that was because new wolves lost their... humanity sometimes in the shift.” It freaked her out to hear her dad talk so calmly about this stuff. Like some axis in the universe had tilted.

“They take care of those too.”

“Care to elaborate?”

Derek shifted, arms crossing over his chest. “My pack, my family, was harmless. We were... modernized. We held to a new belief of integration, cohabitation. Live amongst people, be them. Control the wolf to survive. But some packs hold to the old ways, like Cadie's.”

“You know of them?” There's a question being asked, under the obvious and everyone can hear it.

“No. But I know their type.”

“What exactly are 'the old ways'?”

“Hunting humans as prey.”

Either side of her, Stiles and dad looked gobsmacked. “Seriously, what the hell?”

“Its a tradition. Kill them before they kill you. Kill a human to join the pack. Hunt them together once you're in.”

Dad and Stiles looked at her for confirmation and she nodded wordlessly.

“Did you....? Did you have to....?” Her dad's voice hitched and hesitant, not wanting to hear the answer but having to ask anyway.

Her eyes widened at the question and she shook her head violently. “No. Never. You taught me.... You and mom said it was bad to hurt people.”

He exhaled on a shaky laugh and kissed the side of her head. “That didn't stop you from scrapping in the schoolyard.”

She pressed her face into his shoulder. “I'd forgotten about that.”

“I haven't.” Derek's voice shocked them all.

“What?!” Stiles voice was high pitched. “You knew Cadie?”

A dark eyebrow quirked. “We went to school together.” Something was left unsaid, broken off the quiet statement

Dad laughed, sudden and joyous. “I remember. She had you pinned and was pummeling you for the life of her within the first thirty seconds of her first day. Took me and your dad to pull you two apart.”

“Seriously? My sister kicked your ass in kindergarten? Dude, wait. Werewolves _went_ to kindergarten?”

Cadie cocked her head at Derek, studying his tense features. Would have missed the slight brief quirk of his mouth if she hadn't been looking so closely. For some reason it brought the memory back. “You said my name was funny.”

He shrugged in answer.

“How do you remember that?” It had been a faint thing in the back of her mind that would have stayed there forever if some one else hadn't brought it up.

He shrugged again. “Mom said you would have made a good wolf afterward.” Everything he meant by that was expressed in those few simple words.

Tears rushed back to her and she fought them down. “She was kinda wrong.”

He studied her. “Maybe, but I don't think so.”

She huffed in an attempt at a sarcastic laugh to cover up the tears. “You don't know me very well then. There's a reason I'm an Omega.”

Silence greeted her. Derek's and Stiles considering and her dad confused.

“What does that mean?” He asked.

Everyone hesitated. Stiles was the one left filling the silence.

“It means she was the punching bag of the pack, essentially.”

Her dad's sudden protective rage was overwhelming, engulfing her in red fire. “What the hell did they do to you?”

She curled tighter against herself. “Dad, no. Just no.”

He cupped her face, drawing her to look at him. “You tell me what those bastards did and where to find them. Then I'm going to hunt them down and... and....”

“Pump them full of wolfsbane and silver?” Stiles supplied.

“Exactly.”

She pulled away roughly. From him, from them, from the couch, to stand in the middle of the room with her arms around herself. “No. No, I can't.”

“What do you mean, 'you can't'? They hurt you.” Dad was furious, but not at her. At them, at the world, for her being taken away.

“It wasn't 'them' that hurt me. It was just him. And you can't.... You can't.”

“Why?” Stiles curious, probing yet kind.

“Because he's an Alpha.” It feels like a betrayal to say the words. She might have been the lowest member of the pack and never listened to them, the way they decided to live their lives, but the strings tying her to them were still there. They'd raised her, tried to make her one of them. Even if it didn't work those years were still there.

They were silent, her dad seething, trying to quell the anger that just kept festering. Growing as he let himself feel the lost years and what might have happened in them.

“Why'd you leave?” Derek, calm and calculating.

She averted her eyes. “His... his mate was killed. By... by him. He led her into a trap made by hunters. She was the only.... She was the only thing that kept him sane. Kept me safe.” Again the bitter tang of betrayal, but they needed to know. Needed to be aware of the danger. If an Alpha could lead his mate to be murdered then there was no telling what else he would do.

“Will he look for you?” Derek had put the pieces together. Couldn't know the details of exactly _why_ this made her flee, only that it had.

She shuddered. “Yes. Its why... why I tried to run away from dad.” A shaky breath. “If he finds me.... If he finds out who they are to me....” She couldn't say the words past the images in her mind. She might not have participated in the hunts, but she'd seen what happened. Saw the bloody mangled bodies every time.

“He won't come here.” Derek's voice low and true. “This territory belongs to me as does everyone within it.”

She laughed sardonically. “It won't matter. He's psychotic and ruthless and the pack isn't much better. The only way to keep everyone safe is to leave.”

“No.” Its said by both humans in the room, no longer able to remain silent.

Tears prickled in her eyes and she cast them at the men on the couch. “Its the only way. They killed grandpa because of me. I can't... I can't let them hurt you too.”

Dad's grief was sudden and strong. A short burst that was quickly gathered and tucked away. “We'll talk about that later. But for right now, you're not going anywhere. Not again. We just got you back.”

“Daddy....”

“Derek can place you under his protection,” Stiles interrupted. A raised eyebrow met that declaration. “Hey, buddy, you owe me. Big time.”

“No.” It was her that spoke, small and frightened.

“Why not?” Stiles again.

“Because I won't be the cause of anyone getting hurt. Not because of me and I wont.... I won't be an....” For some reason she couldn't say the words. _Won't be an Omega again. Not within a pack. I'll be one, on my own. Forever if I have to._

“It won't be the same.” By the way Derek said the words it was like he knew. Knew the torment she'd been subjected to and she wondered if he'd suffered a similar fate. “We have an Omega.”

“But he's not a punching bag. Well, sometimes the butt of some harsh jokes, but they're all true.” Stiles is earnest, whole body getting into the act of talking. It made her smile, small and tentative.

“It doesn't matter,” she told them quietly. “What I am, where I am. He'll come. I won't have anyone hurt.” She wouldn't be talked out of it. She'd stayed too long already.

Derek suddenly loomed before her, big and hostile, Alpha power radiating out and calling to her for obedience. And for the first time ever, all of her wanted to listen, not just the wolf. “Your family is pack, human or not. That makes you pack.”

She stared up at him, small and fragile. “Why do you want me to stay?” A whisper in the storm of him.

Something softened in him. Shoulders lowering, brow easing. Darkness entering those changeable eyes. “Because, we're stronger with family.”

Something caught within her at his solemn words. Made her wonder what happened to the kind-faced woman and laughing dark haired man that had brought him to that first fateful meeting. The older sister she remembers seeing. Wonders why when Stiles had talked of this pack it was only teenagers that were mentioned and never the rest of “That Hale Family” she remembers the moms of the neighborhood gossiping about. “But it breaks you when you lose them,” she whispered back and sees the flare of understanding in his eyes.

“Then don't lose them.”

Tears rose unbidden and she twisted her head away. “I can't. I won't.”

He knows what she's saying even when she doesn't. “You can't protect them if you're gone.”

She closed her eyes against the truth. “But I can lead him away so I don't have to.”

He's quiet as he considers her and she's wondering why her family hasn't interrupted. “You think its not to late for that?” Its not sarcastic or biting. He's asking, as unsure of the answer as she is.

Her breath shuddered in and caught in her throat. “I have to try.”

“No. You're too scared to stay.” He said it like some one who has gone through the same thing already.

Defiance flared in her, had her meeting his eyes. “What would you know?” Its a refusal of the compassion she felt before. Strike out before they strike you and rip you to shreds.

He revealed nothing. “I know.”

There's nothing to argue against, not with the low assurance. “If they're hurt by him.....”

“At least you would have done your best to protect them.”

“And what if its not? What if leaving was the right way?”

His expression was haunted, a glimmer of his soul in his eyes. “Running is never the answer.”

And fuck her if he wasn't right. She could have left the pack years ago, but she'd been too scared. To scared to face her family and what she thought they'd think of her. Run from the fear of what they'd do and stayed with monsters. And then she'd run, when it was to late, when her mom was dead and nothing held Andrew back. Run home with her tail between her legs and when the going started getting rough, when it all became to much, when their love was drowning her in guilt and helplessness, all she could think of was taking off again. She snuffled at the tears, wiping her nose. “Yeah.”

Again his body eased, but still watchful. “So you'll stay?”

There was no thought in her nod. She'd finally come home and she wasn't going anywhere, ever again. “Yeah. I'll stay. And join the pack, if you still want me.” She'd need them to keep Dad and Stiles safe. And she'd do whatever they wanted her to in return. A small enough price to pay in theory. She just hoped... she just hoped they didn't ask the same things. That they were as decent as Derek appeared to be.

He nodded. “Tomorrow.”

She nodded in return, unable to form words, unable to process how her life just suddenly shifted.

She only flinched a little when he stepped closer, body crowding close to hers, looming. Obediently tilted her face up, nose brushing under his chin, scenting him. It washed over her, warm and wild. Forest and fire and ash and desperation and fierce protectiveness. Nothing like the sickly scent of death and the acidic burn of madness she was familiar with. She snuffled at the newness, pressing closer to chase the scent, have it stronger, imbed it in her sense-memory labeled under _Pack_ and _Alpha._ Under _Home._ Ignored the way he pressed his cheek to her hair, the way his whole body touched her, his hand cupping her neck, thumb rubbing his scent into her skin. She was his now, marked by him to every other wolf. She bore the Alpha's approval, his acceptance. It felt like a piece of her clicking into place. A piece that had never fit right before.

Then suddenly he was gone and the room felt cold. She let out a breath, inhaling him when she breathed in again.

“What the hell was that?” Her dad sounded strangled.

She let out another shaky breath, not meeting his eyes. “We were sharing our scents.”

“What?”

“Its kinda like the 'Welcome to the club' pin.” It was Stiles that explained, hands shoved in his pockets, standing somewhere in between the other two. “She smells like Derek now and the others will recognize that. Know he's found her first, acknowledged and accepted her. So they'll be less likely to chew her head off, or other parts of her body.”

Dad stared at him a moment. “So essentially he just peed on her leg, didn't he?”

Its so unexpected that it tears a snort of laughter from her. “Dad! Seriously?”

He looks affronted at her indignant protest. “Well its true, isn't it?”

“That's beside the point!”

“Hey, I get to be a little ticked that within the first hour of getting my daughter back, guys are already sniffing around. Literally. Which is always going to be a little... weird.”

She met his eyes for the first time since talking with Derek, hesitant and hopeful. “An okay kinda weird or...?”

“If it means you staying, then a definitely okay weird.”

She smiled tentatively. “Yeah. If you're still okay with the whole....” She waved at herself, dirty and tattered, all five foot two of her.

He crossed the room and hugged her tightly. “Honey, I'm never going to not be okay with you. All of you, just the way you are.”

At some point she'd stop crying, she knew. At some point the tears would dry and everything would stop being so open and raw. But tonight was not the night so she snuggled deeper and hoped that when tomorrow dawned, this wouldn't just be another dream. “You give the best hugs,” she whispered into his shoulder.

His laugh was watery and he clung tighter.

“That he does,” Stiles answered. “And I'm kinda feeling left out over here.”

They both laughed at him and made an opening and it felt like heaven as they both enveloped her. Felt like _Home._


	2. I have been gone, so long and far away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cadie's introduction to the Hale Pack. Part 1 of 2.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I posted this story after season 2 originally, so this has gone seriously AU after that. I'm incorporating Cora and altering season 3A to fit in with this and pretty much ignoring season 3B. I also haven't decided if any of the other season 3 characters (ie, the Carver twins) will show up, but we'll see. I'll add the tags as it happens.  
> Also, half of this was written while I was writing the first chapter and I just finished the last half a week ago, so I think the mood probably switches around a lot.  
> Chapter title taken from a poem found here: http://www.booksie.com/poetry/poetry/micebjr/soldier-coming-home

The next morning Stiles drove her to the Hale House.

It was closer to afternoon before the arguments against why it was a bad idea were given up. There wasn't much to say against “instinct” and “'were rules”. Her dad tried and Stiles mediated. Dad tried to tell her to wait, just _wait_ a couple days. Hold on, don't leave the house, don't leave _us._ It hurt to hear the desperation in his voice, the broken bleeding worry. But she had to, had to go to Derek and present herself to the pack. She couldn't expect protection if they didn't know her. Couldn't expect acceptance if she didn't show the proper respect. It was simply the way things worked, but it freaked her out to have to argue it with dad. Dad who had held onto her all night, waking every few moments to check if she was still there. Dad who hugged her long and tight every five minutes that morning and tearfully whispered that he was glad she was home and that he loved her. It was hard to find a leg to stand on in that. Stiles was the only blessing, interrupting and saying he'd go with her. It had both calmed and worried dad in one go, but he'd finally relented with the promise to follow them up once he got done at the station.

The woods are quiet and peaceful on the drive there, spring just beginning to set in. Buds on the more delicate trees, the stauncher ones still dressed in green. It reminds her of the Colorado mountains where she'd been for nearly twenty years. Of the pack she ran from, the pups playing in the snow, the woman that had been a mother to her. But it also reminds her of here, of real home, of dad and mom and Stiles. The times they'd gone camping when she was small, the sweet oblivion of not knowing what had stalked these woods. She wonders if Derek's whole family had been werewolves or just some of them. If they'd run with the same rare joy she'd had when she slipped away from the pack. He'd said they weren't killers, not like Andrew and she clung to the sound of the steady thump of his heart. Let the memory thud in her ears as reassurance as Stiles navigated them through the woods and across the surprisingly maintained road, head bopping in time to the radio and fingers drumming a staccato on the steering wheel.

Its obvious what has happened to the Hale house despite the reconstruction. New wood butts up and intertwines with the singed remains, the porch showing black licks from flame. The old lumber beyond saving is piled high off in containers waiting to be taken away. All the walls are up and so is the roof, only the interior waiting to be completed. Its a huge sprawling thing, fresh and new mingled with the old. As the pack comes into view the description sorta fits for them too.

There's six kids Stiles' age tousling in front of the porch. Four handsome boys and a terrifying blond and a hard dark haired girl. They're half wolfed as they fight in little bands against each other. Alliances that only last until they clash into an imposing team and break apart to form new ones. Two girls ( _human, so human_ ) sit atop the hood of an ancient sedan that had seen better days, watching with their heads tucked together. They're giggling and laughing, cheering on their favorites.

“Is this all of them?” There's so few and they're so young. So young. Just babies.

Stiles nods as he shuts off the engine. “Yep. Except Broody McBroodison from the Land of the Eyebrows.”

She stared at him. “Do you talk like that in front of him?”

“What? Yeah, of course. Actually, worse cause he kinda scares me and if you haven't noticed I talk a lot when I'm scared.”

She stared some more, nonplussed. “And you're still alive?”

Stiles seemed shocked at her tone, staring back at her. Then he patted his body in a flurry of limbs and sharp elbows. “Yep.”

The routine made her smile, made her gut unclench a little and she tilted sideways until her face pressed into his shoulder, feeling bad when he jerked in surprise. She knew it wasn't normal for teenage boys to have their big sisters be all openly affectionate like that and after she's done being freaked out, she'll give it a rest. But right now? She's freaked out and she needs physical touch to ground her. Usually dad's all up for the “hey I need a random hug” thing, but he's not there. He's at the station trying to figure out how the hell they're going to reintroduce her to the world without alerting every police agency and news station. Apparently when she went missing it was a big thing. “What happened to the house?” The question is drowsy, tired and strung out. She hadn't slept much, waking up just as much as dad to make sure that it hadn't all been a dream.

Stiles twitched, abortive movement so that he didn't disturb her too much. “There was a fire. Years ago.”

Something in his voice catches her attention. It sounds like sadness and compassion and a whole hell of a lot of anger. “His family?” She whispered the question, but she felt like maybe she already knows.

Stiles confirmed it with a single word. “Hunters.”

There's no need to connect everything with more questions and answers. Its all there, plain. A whine is in the back of her throat as she tries to comprehend. Her pack hadn't been her family, but it hurt when one of them died anyway. Pack was pack and it wasn't words that kept you tied together, the nonsense you spewed in the in-betweens. It was a feeling that threaded into your gut and up into your heart. There had been very few she _loved,_ (they were all _gone_ ) and still it had hurt. To lose family....

“All of them?” She choked.

“Yeah.” Quiet in the grief that wasn't theirs and yet was. “There's just him. Well, and his baby sister we found just recently.”

Derek's words last night clicked in the light from the late morning sun, falling into place. He knew what it was like to lose it all and stopped her from feeling the same thing. The two of them, they knew and felt something that these kids hadn't. They knew what having it all felt like. And the feeling when it was ripped apart.

“Okay,” she whispered. “Lets do this.”

Its only as they get out of the jeep that everyone stopped what they'd been doing. And she notices Derek. Hidden under the overhang of the porch, in the shadows, watching everyone and every thing. He's as still as stone, expression just as hard, body coiled tight. There's a part of her (stronger than she'd liked to admit) that just wants to go to him and coil tight around him. Hold him until the pain bleeds away and his edges soften into warmth. Its crazy and it comes from nowhere because he's an alpha (her's now, oh god) and she's... she's always been an omega. The only thing she should be doing is rolling onto her back and presenting her belly.

All eyes were on her with her arms crossed over her chest, Stiles with his hands in his pockets by her side. They all know who she is (what she is), why she's here, but they stand back uncertainly. They don't know her and it makes them edgy, wolf and human parts together. She shuffled forward, a few steps, left Stiles behind her. He knew she had to do this on her own, but she could feel his worry.

She stopped, closer to the jeep than the others, waiting. It wasn't her place to barrel up and introduce herself. That would be stepping into their space, their territory and it would trigger all sorts of crap. So she waited, head bowed, for them to make a move.

Its Derek that does it. Hopping down from the porch and walking through his pack to get to her, calm and quiet. She tilted forward a little as he got nearer, chasing his now familiar scent. Dipped her head to the side in submission as he stepped up into her. He's taller than her (everyone is), head ducking down to press his cheek to hers. She took a shuddering breath, let her hands fall to her sides and only twitched a little when he took them. Warm and wide, they engulf her entirely, tips of his fingers resting against her wrist, feeling the rabbiting of her pulse. Then he's gone, cold space left in his wake. Retreating back behind the others and watching again. Ready if some one reacts badly, but letting them figure out themselves.

The rest stand in a huddle, unsure, until one stepped forward. He's slightly taller than Derek, but hunches down like he's waiting for some one to smack him down for the effrontery. His hands are stuffed into his jeans, crazy curly hair bouncing with each step, but he had a small welcoming smile.

She tried a hesitant tilt of lips when he stopped in front of her.

“Hey, my names Isaac.”

“Cadie.”

“I guess, um, nice to meet you and welcome to the pack?” He extended a hand and she took it and used it to pull herself into him. His startled breath rushed across her face as she stood on tiptoes to nudge his chin with her nose. There's boy and wolf and grief and desperate clinging hope and pack mates. There's history of life and love and violence and new roots sunk deep. She inhaled and heard his shaky laugh. “Umm....”

She stepped back, feeling embarrassed. Normal people did not sniff each other instead of shaking hands.

“Little old for you, isn't she, Isaac?” One of the other boys taunted, smirk tugging at his lips. It lasted until Derek cuffed him upside the back of his head. “Ow! Sonofa....” Words cutting off at a quirked eyebrow and he quickly ducked his head in apology.

“Its how we great each other,” Derek informed them. “Its submission on both sides as a sign of trust. Once we have each others scents, we never forget them.”

The rest of the wolves nodded in understanding, watching her and the boy, Isaac. Isaac who had his hands stuffed back in his pockets, rocking nervously. “Welcome to the Pack.” He said it like an apology, a small smile lifting his features.

She tried a smile of her own. “Thanks.”

The blond girl was the next to step forward, pushing Isaac out of the way to grin in front of her. Pretty with too much makeup that sort of unnerved Cadie. “Hi, I'm Erica.”

Cadie pulled one of her hands free and offered it, trying the normal person route. “Cadie.”

Erica stared at the outstretched hand. “I thought we were supposed to sniff each other.”

Retrieving her hand before it was bitten seemed like a good idea, so she pulled it back under her arm. “It seemed to freak you guys out.”

Erica shrugged. “That's because Isaac's a pussy.” She stepped up into Cadie's personal space, all bravado and big grin.

Cadie obediently tipped her head to the side. She was the lowest on the rung here (when had she not been?) and she'd have to submit in the beginning. Later, when she understood the dynamics better, she could bare her teeth and refuse to be at the bottom of the pile. She was sure she'd have a hell of a time with this one, though. Erica smelled like some one that had clawed her way tooth and nail to where she was.

“You smell like Stiles,” the girl complained when she stepped back.

“I'm in his clothes,” she replied stupidly. When she wasn't bone deep exhausted and her fumes came from lingering terror, she'd have awesome comebacks.

The girl quirked her brow at her and then at her brother still standing like a nervous ticking timebomb behind her. “You're lucky you're his sister.”

And no, she was not going to examine that at all.

A quiet presence appeared at Erica's side, dark skin a contrast to the girl's pale complexion. His hand curled around hers, calming the energy that bumped within her and Cadie saw her first genuine smile. The boy smiled back, before extending a hand to Cadie.

“Boyd.” Voice deep and calm and when Cadie took his proffered hand, he pulled her in. She was reminded of mountains, tall and solid and unbreakable, and cool brooks running gently through the woods. Boyd was the epitome, the walking billboard of calm, serenity. His scent washing over her settled her nerves, made her want to press into his shoulder and just _be._

When she stepped back away from him, it felt like stepping back into a storm. It made her laugh nervously and Erica gave her a knowing grin.

Boyd and Erica moved out of the way for the next boy, the one that had made fun of Isaac and she was instantly on guard. She was well versed in packmates that liked to pick and make fun of others and had no liking for them. But he wasn't like the ones she knew before. Sure he stepped in front of her with a smirk on his face, proclaimed “I'm Jackson” like it was the second coming of Christ and all should bow down before him. But his bravado died down after that and he stood with his hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels as she scrutinized him, nervousness pumping out of him.

“Cadie,” she murmured, taking the first step and held out her hand.

It took him a moment to reach in kind and then they just stood there, looking awkwardly at each other. Finally she had enough, rolling her eyes and stepped up to him. He inhaled sharply as she pressed forward and it was him that tipped his head for _her._ So yeah, the arrogance was an act to hide an insecure puppy. She could deal with that and if she wasn't careful, she could feel really badly about that and end up _liking_ this kid. Not like _like_ , but feel wells of empathy for him and ignore the stupid ass stuff he was bound to do.

After a moment he pulled away, smirk back in place, and yeah, he was gonna be a pain in the ass.

The last boy stepped up and she was hit with a wave of _Stiles_ and some one else and himself. Sweet, innocent face, and puppy eyes. She smiled genuinely at him. “You must be Scott,” she murmured.

He ducked his head, a little embarrassed. “Hearing stories already?”

Her smile turned to a grin. “Illustrated with photos and video just in case I wasn't getting the picture.”

He laughed bashfully. “Jeez. At least my mom wasn't there.”

“Yeah, there'd be no redemption then.”

“None. So, should we do this?”

She nodded and they both moved at the same time, ducking into each others shoulders. She felt a sudden wave of jealousy rush over them from the two humans and she hastily stepped away, looking over at them. The dark haired girl blushed and looked away and Scott had a small secret smile.

“I'm guessing that ones Allison?” She murmured.

His smile turned ten shades sweeter and her heart gave a little pang of envy. Not that she wanted Scott, because _no,_ but it must be nice to have some one that dopey over you. “Yeah. She's the best. I'll introduce you.”

“Not so fast.” It was the last wolf, the dark haired girl. She walked towards them with the easy confidence of some one who knew her place in her pack and what she was.

Scott took a step back, jaw ticked to the side like she annoyed him and whoa, wasn't he supposed to be the omega? Wasn't he supposed to be showing submission on every front instead of, like, irritation at an obviously high ranking beta?

Cadie twitched when the girl got closer to her (god, they were all fucking teenagers) smelling Derek and grief and pain and the sharp scent of steel. She cast her eyes down and to the side, revealing her neck full on. The girl stepped right into her space and leaned in, took a few quick whiffs and stepped back.

“The name's Cora. I'm Derek's sister.”

Cadie looked at her, trying to find similarities. There weren't many. She was all rounder features where Derek was sharp. Brown haired where he was black. Lithe where he was stockier. But beautiful in the same cold and aloof way.

“Cadie,” she murmured. “Stile's sister.”

The girl's mouth twitched. “Sorry to hear that.”

Cadie rolled her eyes. Stiles had warned her that he was the butt of every joke and general embarrassment of the whole pack, but yeah it was going to take time for her to not want to bite them all for it. Not good for first impressions. “Could say the same for you.” Huh. Maybe she got snappy when her whole world got turned _upside the fuck down._

The girl (Cora _Hale_ ) actually smiled. “Finally, some one who understands.” With that, she turned and trudged back up to Derek who was still watching everything from the porch, arms crossed and completely unreadable.

“Well that went well, surprisingly,” Stile's said from her side.

She smiled as she looked at him. “Yeah.”

“Ready to meet the girls?” Scott again and yeah, effervescent puppy.

She so wasn't. She just wanted to go back home, curl up on the couch and have dad and Stiles reassure her some more that she wasn't having some crazy dream. But she smiled wanly instead and murmured, “sure.”

Scott chattered a few things about the dark haired girl (Allison) as they walked towards them while Stiles warned her about the strawberry blond (Lydia). It was endearing and foreign to see them so carefree and innocent when she'd been succinctly informed of what they had been through. She was glad that they hadn't picked up and gathered the jaded outlook she presently bore or the stoic endurance of Cora and Derek. They were still free to choose who they were and how they saw the world. She envied them.

Scott was still talking as they reached the girls, Allison taking a few steps to meet him, smiling, dimples showing. She was beautiful in an unconventional way and smelt like expensive floral perfume, herbal shampoo and... wolfsbane.

Cadie snarled, felt the wolf bubble to the surface and then she was launching herself forward, tackling Allison to the ground in a flurry of limbs and screams. They tussled for a moment, but she had the surprise and it ended with her hand around Allison's throat, nails extended, pricking her skin while she straddled her chest.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you,” she snarled.

“How about this one?” With a flick of her wrist, the girl had a knife to her throat and she could smell the wolfsbane.

“Cadie, what are doing?!” It was Stiles screaming at her and Scott looked like he was about to lunge.

“Stay back!” She roared at them, then looked down at the girl. “She's a hunter.” And not just any hunter. There was something familiar about her scent. Perhaps the perfume.

“We know.”

She stiffened at Derek's calm tone, where he stood above her. Looked up at him in bewilderment. “And you let her stay? Let her into your _pack_?”

“She's different.”

“She's different?! She hunted my pack! She killed - _butchered-_ children. _Human children_. She murdered my m-” She panted, trying to restrain herself from ripping the girl's throat out. She'd never done that before. She'd never wanted to so much before.

Something flickered across Derek's face and she felt unease ripple through the pack. Below her, the girl's heart beat frantically. “When?” He asked calmly.

How did that fucking matter? She'd taken _everything_ good from Cadie. “Almost two years ago,” she bit out.

Derek simply nodded calmly. “It wasn't her then.”

“What?”

“You think?” Allison gasped and Cadie sunk her nails in a little deeper. Scott lunged forward, but Derek caught him with an arm across his chest.

“Its okay. Cadie isn't going to hurt her because Allison didn't kill those people. Because she was here, in Beacon Hills.”

“How do you know that?” She raged. “I was there. I _smelt_ her.”

Derek nodded again, like he knew something. “Her? Or her perfume?”

Cadie wavered, uncertain. There had been a woman there, but she hadn't seen her face or much of anything. Just the strong whiff of wolfsbane and blood and fire and... a strong synthetic floral scent. “I don't.... Maybe... But...” She looked down, felt the knife press harder into her skin. And saw the pendant resting at the base of her throat. “But your name is Argent and I recognize _that.”_

“You do, but they also belonged to some one else.”

In her peripheral she saw Scott stop struggling with something like understanding, but what caught her was the sudden sadness in the girl's eyes. The way the knife fell from her throat and the girl just went limp.

“Kate. My aunt Kate,” Allison whispered. “I'm sorry. She gave me the pendant. And the perfume. For my birthday, before she... died.”

It wasn't a lie. The girl's heart beat steady and true and sad and Cadie didn't know what to do. She looked up at Derek for guidance and he knelt by them, carefully wrapping his fingers around hers and loosening her hold. She let him.

“It wasn't Allison,” he told her quietly, holding her gaze. “It was her aunt. Allison has never killed a werewolf or an innocent. We'll explain everything, but you need to get off her.”

Cadie looked down at the girl again and for some reason felt guilty. “Ok.” She slid off her, to sit down on the ground. Allison scrambled back a little, holding her throat, Scott immediately glued to her side, holding her with a torn expression. She wanted to say she was sorry, but she wasn't exactly sure she was. Not for the first time in the last twenty four hours, she didn't know what was going on.

“Come on.” Derek was standing in front of her, hand held out. She looked around at the others, found them watching warily from a few steps away, even Stiles. She felt suddenly ashamed of herself, like she was some broken wild animal they all had to be afraid of. Like a freak. Tears rose unbidden and she swiped angrily at them, taking Derek's hand and letting him pull her to her feet, following as he led the way to the porch. The others fell in around them, Scott cradling Allison to his side while she held on and she looked away from them, keeping her eyes on Derek's boots.

He motioned her to sit and she did at the top step, the bannister to her back, and curled herself tight around her drawn up knees. Derek stood on the other side of the steps from her, arms crossed while the others took various positions around them, Stiles sitting on the very bottom step, watching her.

“First, tell me what happened.”

She sniffled. “About what, exactly?”

“What happened with your pack and the hunters. Why you think it was Allison and how you knew her name was Argent.”

She let her head fall back against the wood behind her, staring up at the roof instead of the people gathered around her. “I told you a little about my pack last night,” she began.

Derek nodded. “They hunted people, killed them. Innocents,” he filled in for the others.

“Yeah. But my mom-” she saw Stiles flinch in her peripheral and restarted. “Selena, she was an older wolf, a beta. She raised me since they took me. She wasn't like the others. She didn't participate in the hunts and took care of the kids while the others were gone.”

“She was like the pack mom?” Stiles queried.

She nodded. “Yeah. She hunted rabbits and scrounged up other food for us so we didn't have to... to... to... eat people.” They looked sick and horrified and it was disturbingly reassuring. She wasn't alone. Some sort of freak. “She taught me how, too. So I kinda helped her looking after the kids. There were human and werewolf. Anyway, we were alone while the rest were out hunting. It was night and mo- Selena was taking care of me and the kids.”

“You said this was two years ago. Why was she taking care of you?” Derek, calm and blank faced.

Cadie flinched. “Because Andrew, the alpha, had commanded me to hunt with the pack again and I had refused, so he... he... he... hurt me.”

“How?” Stiles sounding strangled and scared and enraged.

She closed her eyes and told herself it was necessary that they know what exactly Andrew was. “He hamstrung me and poisoned me. With wolfsbane.”

“Oh my god. What the actual fuck, Cadie?”

She shrunk away from her little brother's rage, feeling it prickle over her skin.

“Stiles, stop it.” Derek glaring in his direction until she felt the emotions recede and settle, bubbling just under the surface. “Can you finish?”

She nodded. “It wasn't something new, what he did. I got it a lot because I wouldn't become like him and the rest of the pack. Selena protected me as much as she could and took care of me when I couldn't do it myself. That's how the hunters found us.” She breathed in deeply and opened her eyes to watch Derek as she spoke. Her new alpha. One that didn't hurt people. “My m- Selena and I were a bit away from the kids. They were in front of a fire she'd made, eating the food she'd gotten them to keep them busy while she tended to me. Then we heard voices and we knew it wasn't the pack. I was sick, could barely move, so she went to check on the kids and see whoever it was and I could see from where I was lying down. They shot her. Without warning they shot her.” She stopped the sob before it came out. It had been years. The pain should have faded.

“Then what?” Derek quietly probing, implacable. She understood why.

“They shot her with an arrow or something. It must have been laced with wolfsbane because she couldn't shift. The kids started screaming and tried to run away, but there were too many. They caught them all and strung them up with Selena. Hung them from the trees by their hands. The kids were screaming and crying. Elijah was only five.” She choked back another sob. “Selena kept saying the kids were innocent. To take her. To let them go. That it was the Code. They couldn't hurt the kids because of the Code. That's when the old man and the woman appeared.”

“Kate and Gerard,” Scott breathed like a curse. It was strange to hear his tone from some one that looked that sweet, that innocent of hatred.

“I didn't hear the woman's name, just saw her silhouette, but the other hunters called her Ms. Argent. She called the old man Gerard but the others just called him Mr. Argent. I saw _him_ because he was facing me. I thought he'd see me, but, but, but they never did.” The tears were there again. _She_ was there again. “They asked mom - _Selena-_ where the rest of the pack was. Threatened the kids. They even burnt Alayah with a stick from the fire when she didn't say anything. Alayah was _human_ , they _knew_ that and they _hurt_ her.” She didn't realize that tears were running down her face, that her breath was coming in hitched sobs. “She finally couldn't take it anymore, you know? The kids being hurt. So she told them. She told them everything. About the guy we caught earlier that day and where they were and what they were doing and why and all their names and _everything._ She told them _everything_ and then said she wouldn't fight.” She sobbed. “Said she wouldn't fight at all, she'd _help_ them take out Andrew and the others if they just let the kids go. And you know what they _did?_ ” Her eyes blazed up at Derek, feral and enraged.

He met her gaze calmly, but there was seething rage under his skin and a knowing that simply went beyond just guessing what she was going to say. “They killed them.”

She closed her eyes slowly then wiped them on the back of her sleeve, the anger, everything just draining from her body. Some one else knew, had felt what she felt, seen what she had seen and _knew._ “Yeah,” she answered quietly. “They slit the kids throats, even the human children. Elijah first and mom went crazy. One of her hands got free and she tried to slash the woman's throat, but missed. Something got caught in her hand though. I saw it glinting in the firelight.” She pressed the side of her face into her knees, looked down at Stiles watching her with a sad sick expression. “The old man stepped forward with a sword. A fucking sword and he cut her open. Not through, just open so everything spilled out while she screamed and hung from one hand. She was still alive as they cut the other kids throats. And all I could do is watch and not make a sound. Watch and listen as the kids begged and cried. For their lives, for mom. See their skin part under the knives, their blood come gushing out over their chests. As they twitched, even after they had stopped breathing.” She was so empty, just a void. A nothing that could never be filled. Hollow, but bursting with the ghosts of her past, twenty years worth of memories. “After it was done and everything was quiet, the woman reached down and took from mom's hand the thing she had ripped from her neck. It hung for a moment in the firelight. Its always been strange to me how clear that memory is. How when it was hard to breathe I could see it from all the way where I was. And I'll never forget it.” She looked up at Allison then, curved into Scott, under his arm as if trying to hide from the horror she'd painted of her family. Cadie would almost feel bad at her sick expression and weeping eyes if she could feel. Almost.

“It wasn't her.” Derek's voice was steady, quiet, drawing her gaze. “It was her aunt and her grandfather. The necklace is an heirloom.”

“So am I supposed to just accept that? Accept that she is no threat because she wasn't _there?_ She's a hunter. They kill us, _innocents_ , and then try and justify it with some _fucking_ Code.”

“'We hunt those that hunt us'.” Allison, calmer if eyes still wet, stepped from Scott and towards her. “That was the Code. But my aunt and my grandfather disgraced it. We follow a new one.”

Angry, at herself, this girl filled with her righteousness, the world, she stood and hated that she was shorter. That she was skin and bone where the girl was the picture of healthy athleticism. That she was beautiful and made up and put together in all the right ways and Cadie was a broken thing, dressed in things that weren't her own, fueled by rage and fear. “Another justification?”

The girl smiled sadly, like she knew what was going on inside of her and pitied her. “'We protect those that can't protect themselves'.”

She wanted to hold onto her hate, she realized. She wanted to let it consume her and burn away the pain, the memories even as those fueled it. She wanted it to destroy her so she wouldn't have to endure anymore. So she simply wouldn't have to be _her_ anymore. Then she'd just be some one like Andrew. She stared at the girl and she saw a version of herself, some one who had stood at the same crossroads and taken the wrong path and had to back track, re-find herself. Remake herself. She'd done one hell of a job. Maybe Cadie could too. Didn't mean she had to like her though. She was still an Argent, still a hunter. Still a threat.

“I'll believe it when I see it,” she hissed, but broke eye contact first. Turned to Derek and found him watching, some of the tension easing from his jaw. “We done here?” She asked wearily.

Sympathy flickered on his face, but it was Stiles that answered. “Sorry, sis,” and he sounded like he meant it, advancing the few steps between them to curl his hand around hers. “Dad is almost here and he needs to talk with all of us. He's also bringing Scott's mom. She's a nurse and has been learned up on werewolf ailments. She's gonna check if you're okay.”

She nodded, leaning her head onto his shoulder. “Then can we go home?” He hesitated. She sighed. “What?”

“Allison's dad is also coming.”

Of course he was.

“Also, dad and Chris-that's Allison's dad- want to hear what happened to you. When you got kidnapped and grandpa....”

Of course they did.

“And then we have to take you down to the station for some procedures to prove that you are really you and you'll have to give a statement about what happened to you and where you've been.”

Of course she did. “I'm guessing that last bit will not include werewolves, psychotic alpha's, or murderous hunters that cut people in half. With swords.”

“Yeah, we'll want to leave those out of the police report.”

She nodded. “Awesome.” Then she sat down heavily because standing was too much. Stiles followed her down, arm wrapped around her shoulders and it sort of reminded her of dad and then all she wanted to do was cry. So she did a little bit, sniffling into his chest.

“Hey, Cadie, its okay. Its fine. Its going to be okay.”

“Is it 'okay' or is 'going to be okay'?”

He choked on a laugh. “Geez, nice time to get all technical.”

She snuffled a laugh then stiffened when she felt some one sit on her opposite side. She looked up and found the curly haired boy- _Isaac-_ there. He gave her a small smile and pressed his shoulder into hers and then she _got it._ She was pack now and he was offering her comfort and she was crying again. He took her hand and Stiles held on and the others eased close and she realized they were sitting at Derek's feet and oh god, she was a fucking puddle of tears.

“Its okay now and its going to be okay later,” Isaac offered up and she laughed a little again.

“Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my finest work, I don't think. I'm never very good with dialogue and this chapter has tons of it and so will the next chapter which I hope to have posted soon.


	3. I am home and here to stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cadie's introduction to the Hale Pack part 2 of 2. And answers. Like a lot more than anyone wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title taken from the same poem as the previous chapter.   
> Also, descriptions of violence and abuse. Not terribly graphic, but they are there just as a warning.  
> I've also taken the liberty of somewhat adding to the werewolf myth as it isn't fully described what Teen Wolf's werewolves are capable of. Most of what I added was filled in from the ridiculous amount of other werewolf stories I've read over the years.

They heard the two vehicles long before they saw them, though it was the cruiser that appeared first, pulling in besides Stiles' jeep. The big dark SUV wasn't far behind and for Cadie it wasn't hard to guess who was in that. But it was her dad that got out first, followed by a dark haired woman, around his age, from the passenger side.

“Hey, kiddo,” the sheriff murmured as he walked towards their group. “Hows it hanging?”

Cadie laughed a little and disentangled herself from Stiles and Isaac to curl herself into her dad's hug. He wrapped her up tight, easing some of the raw open nerve endings. “A lot better than I thought I'd be twenty-four hours ago,” she answered honestly.

He rubbed her back, holding a little tighter. “Me too, kiddo. Me too.” He held her for a while longer before letting go. “I got some one I'd like you to meet.” He stepped to the side, but kept his hand on her shoulder. “This is Melissa McCall, Scott's mom.”

Cadie tried to find a smile somewhere and uncrossed her arms to shake her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

The older woman smiled kindly and Cadie saw where Scott got it from. “You too, honey. Your mom always said you were so pretty. You look just like her.”

The tears that always seemed to be just under the surface, welled up again. “You knew my mom?”

She nodded, sympathy across her face. “We used to get together all the time because of Stiles and Scott.  They've been inseparable since they were eight. I didn't know her that long, but yeah, we were friends.”

Cadie crossed her arms again, like it would hold in everything. “And she would talk about me?”

“Oh, honey.” Motherly concern and understanding all over her face, Melissa reached for her and hugged her close. “All the time. She always knew you were out there. She never gave up hope that some day you'd come home.”

It was strange how it eased a lifelong ache in her soul and made her want to cry at the same time, tearing open wounds that had not had proper time to heal. Made her let this woman she did not know hold her and ease a little bit of her pain because she knew _mom_ , her real mom. The mom that had loved her until the end, that had never given up hope that her lost daughter would return.

It seemed forever before she stepped away, rubbing her eyes in embarrassment. “I can't seem to stop crying lately.”

“We'll revisit that statement in a week or two to see if still holds any validity,” her dad said with a smile.

She laughed because his eyes were a little wet too. “Okay.” Movement behind them caught her eye and she looked over, found a silver haired man her dad's age walking towards them. Instinctively, she stepped in front of them to face the stranger and knew who he was. “You must be the other Argent,” she flared.

He stopped cold in his tracks, watching her warily. “You know who I am?”

“I know of your family, yes.”

Behind her, she heard the others advancing from the porch, but it was Allison that came into view first. She stepped up to her dad's side, curling a hand around his arm.

“Hey, dad.”

He looked down at her. “What's going on?”

She gave him a small half smile that was trying too hard. “It looks like Gerard and Kate attacked her old pack just before they came back here. In a really bad way.”

The older man -Chris- nodded. Then he looked back at Cadie, surrounded now by the Hale pack. “I'm not my father, or my sister. The rest know that.”

The old familiar rage bubbled under her skin. “Trust me, its the only thing keeping me over here.”

He nodded like he knew and she did not want his understanding. She wanted Selena and the kids back. Her pack mates that had died for no reason at all. She snarled, at him, at his perfect daughter who had made no excuses for what she'd just learned.

“Cadie.”

It wasn't only her dad that reached out and touched her. It was Derek as well. The combined fact of _dad_ and _alpha_ stilled her restless pain and she turned away. From an urge she hadn't felt since that night and the tension in the pack around her. From the scent of wolfsbane and mountain ash and grief and guilt.

“Stiles said you had to hear everything,” she said dully to no one at all, staring at the ground, feeling the exhaustion come pooring back in.

Derek's hand had fallen away, but her dad's remained. “I'm sorry, kiddo, but yeah, we need to.”

She nodded numbly.

“Is this gonna be a short story or can we eat first?” All eyes swiveled to the speaker, landing on one of the betas. Jackson. “What?! Derek called us all out here at ass o'clock in the morning. I haven't eaten.”

“Dude, so much tact,” Isaac muttered.

“I second the food option.” Cora that spoke up, earning her a withering glare from Derek.

“Really, guys?” Scott looking exasperated. “You're thinking about food right now?”

Erica gave him a considering look. “Uh, yeah?”

“Alright, enough,” the sheriff broke in. “I know how you are when it comes to your food. Which is why Mrs. McCall and I made a pit stop before coming out here.”

Isaac perked up. “Burgers?” He asked hopefully.

Stiles gave him a look. “Really, dude? I thought you were, like, on our side here.”

The curly haired boy shrugged. “Its free food.”

“Traitor.”

Mrs. McCall rolled her eyes. “Yeah, burgers. And curly fries. Stiles, supervise the food distribution while I check out your sister.”

Stiles gave her a smart salute, but everyone else beat him to the cruiser and started handing out and arguing over bags. Cadie watched them, feeling the sting of loss, remembering the times when the rest of the pack was gone and Selena found the rest of them a meal. How the kids would crowd close, establishing their own hierarchy in their small band on who ate first and what. It had never been as carefree as the teenagers were before her and there had certainly been less food, but the similarities caught her, lodged in tight against her heart. This pack might be saving her, but she wondered when they'd kill her.

“Come on, honey. Lets go over here for a minute.”

Melissa guided her back to the porch steps, her father following close behind. They sat down facing everyone else, Cadie noticing how the Argent's stood a small distance away to the side, only Scott and Lydia bridging the divide. Derek standing in the middle, watching everyone. She couldn't help but feel that with his back to her, it meant he was standing before her, protecting her. It was a disconcerting feeling to have for an alpha for her. They had always been a source of terror.

“I'm going to start off asking some questions, then I'm going to check your vitals. Is that okay?”

Cadie nodded, smiling when her dad took her hand. She answered the questions (are you in any pain? _Physical? No._ When was the last time you ate? _This morning. French toast with too much_ syrup. Slept? _Two days ago. A little last night.)_ After that she took her pulse, her blood pressure, shone a light in her eyes, in her mouth. When she was done, she packed everything back into her bag and set it by her feet.

“What's the verdict, doc?” Her dad, all fatherly concern.

The older woman smiled. “Besides being a bit dehydrated and malnourished, I'd say she's in perfect health.”

“Werewolf. We kinda don't have problems.” Cadie smiled.

Melissa squeezed her hand. “No harm in being sure.”

She nodded her understanding then laughed as Stiles huffed into a seat behind her and plopped a white bag in her lap. “Eat up, sis, before the mongrels steal it.”

She carefully dug through the bag as Scott handed his mom something yogurt-y and her dad took a giant bite of some sort of egg sandwich. She found a burger in her bag and though hungry (again. Dad had fed her and Stiles before they left), she plucked at the paper, feeling the urge to wrap it up again and save it for later. She might not be able to eat again for a while.

“You should eat that.”

She looked up at Derek's voice, found his shadow over her. Beside her, her dad stilled his eating to look between them both. She looked down again. “I'm kinda.... I feel as if, maybe, I should save it. For later. In case....” The admittance tumbling out in fumbled words.

He sank down into a crouch before her and dipped his head until he caught her eyes. “Its okay,” he answered quietly. “That's over now. You're safe.”

She smiled crookedly at him, his understanding. “You can't have something be a certain way for eighteen years then just accept it changing overnight.”

He gave her a half smile, but it was genuine. “I know. Its hard. But trust me when I say you're safe and you need to eat. I need you strong. We're still a young pack. We can't have any weaknesses.”

She nodded, taking a bite of her food to show her understanding and he wordlessly rose to lean on the railing of the steps, arms crossed. Around them, the others settled back onto the porch amid grumblings of “Derek, we need furniture, for reals” then silence as they consumed a ridiculous amount of food. It horrified Cadie to think of it, but she could well remember the times Andrew let them go into towns and purchase food. How much it had cost to feed a few just some scraps. For so much? It was more than she'd see in a whole year.

_That's over now,_ she told herself. _Its done. This pack is good. They wont hurt me because they can. Dad and Stiles trust them. Its okay. Its going to be okay._ But the worry remained. No just because she did not know them enough to trust them, but that Andrew would find her and rip it all away.

When she was done eating, she carefully balled up the wrapper, but held it in her hands, crumpled between her fingers. “Do you want me to start at the beginning?” She asked quietly, looking at no one, feeling them still around her. “The night I was taken?”

“If you would.”

She looked up at Chris' voice, found him leaning back against the hood of his SUV with arms crossed, Allison at his side, mimicking him. Her face twisted. “Before I begin I'd like to ask you something.”

All emotion (what little had been there) dropped from his face. “About my sister or my father?”

She grimaced. “About Andrew. My old alpha.” His shocked expression told her everything she needed to know. “Then it wasn't a lie. He'd been a hunter once.”

“Come again?” There was the beginning of rage in her father's voice and something inside of her was vindicated.

“Talk about a plot twist,” Jackson snickered.

“Jackson!” Lydia hissed.

“This is not going to end well,” Stiles muttered under his breath.

“To answer your question, yes. He used to be one of us.” Mr. Argent, all smooth voice and cool eyes.

“You mean he worked for your family.” Derek, jaw tensed so the words sounded ground out.

The older man nodded. “One of my father's favorite pupils. Said he was like a son.”

“Then he got bitten,” Cadie observed.

“The he got bit,” he echoed.

“Why didn't he kill himself?” Allison asked the question, quiet and too sad for some one she hadn't known.

Her father looked down at her with the same sadness. “He was supposed to. He was going to. But he told Gerard that he wanted to take out the alpha -some kid that had gotten lucky taking out an old timer and went wild when he couldn't form a pack. Said he wanted to do it because the alpha couldn't hurt him, not after being bitten. That he was the best man for it. I should have known it was a lie though. Andrew had never been selfless.”

“So he didn't kill the alpha?” Scott asked, a weird note to his voice.

Chris directed his cool blue stare at him. “I didn't say that. We found the alpha the next day, cut in half. But Andrew was long gone by then.”

“But, he's still a werewolf.”

“Andrew said they can make a choice when they kill their maker.” All eyes swiveled to her, but it was Derek's stare she met. “I never knew whether to believe him because he was insane, but he said when you kill your maker, if they're still an alpha, you can choose. To become human or to become an alpha.”

“So he chose power,” Chris breathed it like it was answer to an old question.

Cadie nodded, closing her eyes briefly against the memories.

“Did you know what he was?” The sheriff asked in the silence, his anger directed at the Argents'. “Did you know he became a monster?”

It was Mr. Argent that answered. “Yes. We hunted him, but he knew all our secrets, our tactics. He went to ground, for years. We got a lock on him shortly after I returned here. Kate and Gerard went to handle him.”

“No offense, but we've kind of heard the awesome job they did,” Isaac flared and Cadie wondered how much she hadn't heard of what had happened in the last few years.

“And I haven't. My father wasn't exactly the best narrator.”

Cadie worried the wrapper still in her hands, not looking at anyone.

Melissa noticed and put a comforting hand over hers. “When you're ready.”

Cadie smiled gratefully at her. “I never will be, but they need to know as soon as possible. To prepare in case Andrew decides to look for me if he isn't already.”

The older woman nodded in understanding. “We're all here for you. Even them.” She looked at the Argents' with something close to a challenge in her stare.

Cadie snorted. “I'll believe it when I see it.”

“Give them a chance.” Scott, gentle but firm. God help the world if he ever decided to take over. Half would be done in by those brown eyes and the other half would be done in by thinking those brown eyes were harmless.

She glared at him. “I am. I'm sorry, but this is the best I have right now, okay?”

Her dad patted her knee. “Down, kiddo. They're not the enemy. No one here is. But there is one out there and I _-we-_ need to know everything you can tell us.”

She took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay.” She placed the wrapper she'd been clutching on the porch step and curled her hand around her dad's and held tight to Mrs. McCall. “Grandpa and I were on our way back from Denver. We left in the night to beat a storm I think.”

“Yeah, he called before you left.” Her dad quiet in his remembering.

“Why were you with grandpa in the first place?” Stiles interrupted.

Cadie looked back at him and realized she didn't have an answer so they both looked back at the sheriff.

“You'd just been born.” He directed his response to Stiles. “I'd just gotten promoted which just meant they had me pulling more shifts. We had to move out of the house for a few weeks because some faulty wiring started a fire in the kitchen. The holidays were coming. Cadie was getting lost in the shuffle. Claudia and I just didn't have time.” He smiled sadly at her. “She was concerned you weren't getting enough attention and my dad offered a solution. He lived so far and was worried that he wouldn't get to know his grandchildren, so he offered to take Cadie for a week or two while we got resettled into the house and he got to have some bonding time. They'd be back in time for Christmas. That was the plan. Instead....”

Cadie held tighter to him. “Instead we hit something in the mountains, going through a pass or something. It must have been in the middle of the night. I don't remember. I was sleeping. I think the impact woke me.” She closed her eyes. _You're not a little girl anymore. You're not there anymore._ She opened them again. “I remember grandpa telling me to stay in the car. He left it running. It was an old truck, a pickup, I think.” Her dad nodded. “The rumble it made hid the sounds at first. But then it didn't.”

“Sounds?” Stiles, asking like he was afraid of the answer.

She let go of her dad's and Melissa's hands to hug her chest. “Screams. I don't remember what he was saying. Just screaming like he was being torn apart. He was, I found out later. But I didn't know then. It just scared me so I crawled onto the floor boards with this old knitted blanket he always had across the seat. I covered myself up in it, trying to hide. I knew there was some sort of monster out there, doing that to him. It had to be bad because he was so big and strong. I wanted to be too, but he'd told me to stay in the car.” She fell quiet, trying to will the memories into numbness. They were over. She had survived.

“Then what?” Derek searching her face when she met his gaze. For what, she didn't know.

“He ripped the door right off the truck,” she answered quietly.

“Andrew?” Argent this time, leaning forward in his interest.

She nodded. “I peeked out when he did, wondering what the noise was, hoping it was grandpa. Instead it was a monster.” She rubbed her face on the back of her sleeve. “His face was transformed more than I've ever seen since and with the red eyes and the blood everywhere, he was terrifying. He reached in and he pulled me out and I screamed and kicked and he tossed me on the ground. It hurt. A lot. Then he came at me and I knew. I knew he was going to kill me. I think I started screaming. For you, dad. And mom.”

“Christ, Cadie.” Her dad's eyes were wet and rage simmered under his skin, trembling in his hands as he clasped them together, holding it in.

She wanted to comfort him, hug him and tell him it wasn't his fault, but she felt disconnected from her body. She had no control over it, keeping herself from the terror of her own memories. “He'd almost reached me when suddenly there was a woman there. She was older than mom, but not old. She threw herself on top of me and begged Andrew not to hurt me, to keep me. Make me one of them. I didn't understand it all at the time. Just that she was trying to protect me. She smelt like the pines.” She lost herself in the memory, in the remembrance of Selena's scent, how it had always comforted her, let her know she was loved in her darkest days. It had covered her always, like her grandpa's old blanket, warm and familiar.

“Did the alpha listen?”

Her dad's voice broke her from her revery and she sniffled, wiping at her eyes with the heels of her palms. “Yes and no. He threw her off me and I remember him saying something about if I survived the Bite, she could have me. Then he bit me.”

“Right there?” She couldn't understand the emotions in her dad's and Stiles' strangled voices, only there were many and overlapping.

“When you were six?” The older Argent, incredulous.

“And you survived.” Derek didn't frame it like a question. It was a quiet statement, approving her survival.

“Do we know of anyone being bitten that young?” Cora asked in the brief silence. “And surviving,” she added when her brother and the Argent's flicked looks at each other.

“I haven't heard of anyone,” Derek admitted, like it pained him he didn't have knowledge of something.

“Neither have I,” Chris allowed with a grimace. “Are you sure this was the same Andrew I knew?”

Cadie glared at him. “Andrew Wilson? Had some shitty tattoo of a cross on the inside of his left forearm with the oh so original _'spiritus sanctus'_ written in it in the worst calligraphy I have ever seen?”

The older man's mouth twitched. “Sounds like one and the same then.”

“You think?”

“What happened next? Other than you not dying, obviously.” It was Erica that asked, like everything hadn't been Cadie's personal hell and instead some B rate horror movie review.

She huffed. “I nearly died and then I didn't because mom took care of me.”

“'Mom'?” Her dad's voice was choked up and beaten up and she felt instantly guilty.

“Selena,” she answered quietly. “The woman who saved me.”

The sheriff took her hands in his. “Honey, she wasn't your mom.”

Angry, at herself, at her _dad_ , she pulled away and stood, facing the porch full of people watching her. “I _know_ that, okay? But I was six years old when I was taken. _Six._ I was alone and was going to _die_. Then this woman saves me, okay? She saves me. She challenges her _alpha_ to protect this girl she doesn't know all because she heard me crying for my mom and dad. And I know it only mattered to her because she'd just lost her own daughter who was my age, alright? I know that. But that didn't stop her from loving me for me. From protecting me every time I screwed up which was fucking constant because I was an omega because of the _family_ I could barely remember.” She was crying and furious she swiped at the tears on her face. “My memories of here are what kept me human, but they caused every bit of pain I felt. And you know what she did when she realized I wouldn't _eat people?_ She refused to too and Andrew hurt her just as much as he hurt me and made her an omega too. And then brutalized any of the pack that tried to help us because we had to get our own food, make our own shelters. If we wouldn't be like them then we had to fend for ourselves, but he wouldn't let us leave either. Oh no, we had to endure his shit or die and she was there for me. Every. Fucking. Moment. Until she was killed. She was there, doing her best to protect me.” Her chest was heaving with ragged breaths, gathering air into her lungs, struggling to hold back the rage, the pain, the wasted life. “So yeah, I call her mom because that's what she was to me for sixteen years. It doesn't mean I don't remember my real mom. Doesn't mean I love her any less, but I'm not going to ignore what Selena did for me either.”

Her dad looked stricken and that hurt. She hadn't meant to lash out, to tell him all that. It didn't serve any good at all, but he and Stiles wanted her to deny the one person she had loved, that had saved her life and cared for her and she couldn't. She just couldn't.

“Honey....” Her dad sounded broken and that was her fault. She'd done that to him. Maybe despite all her denials, Andrew was right. She was a monster.

“Daddy, I'm sorry,” she whispered, hugging herself. Taking a step back when all she wanted to do was run forward and hug him and pray he wouldn't push her away. “I never meant to hurt you with all that, but I can't deny Selena. Not after everything.”

He stood and took back the steps she'd taken, curling his hands around her arms. “No, Cadie. Look at me.” She did, haltingly, not wanting to see his face, his disappointment, but all that was there was sincere fatherly pride. “You're absolutely right, kiddo. What that woman - _Selena_ \- did is what a mother would do. What Claudia would have done if she had been there. And I wish I could meet this Selena and thank her.”

She couldn't stop the surprise from showing on her face and felt a bit of icy terror melt away from her heart. Her dad smiled, like he knew.

“She took care of you when we couldn't, when we didn't even _know_ what had happened to you. What was happening to you and I will hate that bastard for the rest of my life for what he's done, but I'm glad you had some one there, watching over you and keeping you the same beautiful, head strong, little girl that I remember.” He caught her when she sobbed and sagged forward into his arms and wrapped her up tight, crushing her almost and it was more than okay. “But I'm not going to lie, kiddo. It hurts a little when you call another woman 'mom'. Makes me angry all over again. Not at you, but that bastard for taking you away. For not letting us have you like we were supposed to. For not letting Claudia see you grow. And its going to take a while for that to go away, okay, kiddo?”

She nodded against his chest, too busy crying to form words, because she could understand that. She kind of felt the same way.

“Okay,” he whispered into her hair. “Okay. We're going to be okay.”

She laughed then pulled away to wipe her face. “Its like our family motto now.”

The sheriff mustered up a smile for her that was a little too wet and sad, but still there. But it was Stiles that answered. Still sitting on the porch.

“Nah, the Stilinski Hug is definitely the family motto. The words are more of a verbal interpretation for people who don't understand the the physical essence of the Hug.” His voice sounded scratched up with too much emotion, but still with that joking edge to it.

Cadie laughed, rubbing at her face to get rid of the last of the tears. “Yeah.”

“That hug does have magical properties to it.” All eyes swiveled to Lydia. “What?”

“When were you hugging Mr. Stilinksi?” Jackson, all confused jealousy.

She rolled her eyes at him. “When I thought you died that first time before I knew about all these... supernatural... things.”

Cadie blinked, trying to comprehend that statement. “Okay, this is not the first time I have heard statements along the lines of dying more than once. What has been going on with you people? Do I need to be concerned?”

“Yes.” It was Chris that answered. “Definitely because people have died here and then risen from their graves in various different manners, but its not just that. Beacon Hills is, well, a beacon for the supernatural. Its like a flame in the dark and everything from your nightmares finds its way here.”

She stared at him. “Awesome,” she finally breathed. She wanted to make some snarky not at all true comeback about how maybe Andrew's pack was a little less dangerous, but it felt too soon.

“Yeah, the last few years have been... fun,” Scott put in.

She huffed. “Sounds like.” She rubbed at her eyes, exhausted and there was still so much to go through. Tiredly she went back to her seat on the porch, smiling up at Stiles when he squeezed her shoulder, her dad following close behind. Some one else pressed in close from the side; her mouth twitching as Isaac's scent got clearer. “I guess I should finish,” she began quietly. The others made various noises of agreement and she sighed. “We moved around a lot, but stayed mostly in the Rockies and never lived amongst humans. Like, we lived in the wilderness. We stayed in a lot of hunting and vacation cabins in the winter. Summer though, it was always out in the wild. We never stayed in one place more than a few months. Sometimes we'd backtrack to a place we hadn't been in for a year or two.”

“Because of the people they killed.” Argent, still smooth and cool and matter of fact. She supposed one would be if they were a hunter.

She nodded. “Said that if we stuck around in one place, the hunters would catch us and then we would be dead.”

“Did anyone ever challenge him?” Again, Argent. Gathering information.

Again she nodded. “They all died. He was strong. Selena said he was stronger than her old alpha and he'd been powerful. And he was ruthless. He broke us down until the thought of challenging him was too terrifying. No one was immune to his brutality. Well, Bree was, but she was his mate.”

“Bree?”

“Yeah, I never understood how she could be with him because she wasn't like him. Yeah, she participated in the hunts and stuff, but it was only like it was because of him. Like she did it all because he did it. And she'd try and stop him, you know? When he was just flying off the handle she'd try and calm him down, but never in a challenging way. Just more of a 'hey, cool down'. And if he didn't want too she didn't push it.”

“You think she was his anchor?” It was Allison that asked, directing the question at Derek.

Cadie answered. “No, she came after me. I don't exactly remember how or when, just that it was after I did. I think... I think Selena was his mate or something before Bree.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because her little girl? The one that died? She was Andrew's. He bit her when she was six -like me- and it didn't take.”

“He killed his own daughter?” Her father sounding horrified.

She caught his gaze. “Yeah. And she wasn't the last.”

“How many were there?”

“All of them.”

“What?”

She sighed, rubbing at her face. “All the kids that were born into the pack were his.” She looked up at their shocked silence. “Yeah. He wouldn't let anyone else... breed for the lack of a better word, unless they had his say so. He'd give the women out like prizes to his favorite betas, but only after they were pregnant by him. When the kids were eight or so usually, and weren't born wolves, he bit them.”

“How many survived?” The sheriff, quiet, curling his hand around one of hers.

“Only a few. He didn't care. He only wanted the kids to add to his power. If they couldn't become wolves and keep up with the rest of the pack, he believed they didn't deserve to live. That they were just a burden.”

“Oh my god, Cadie....”

She shrugged. “It was the way it was, okay? Its just what we all knew.”

“You said he passed around the women, that only he was allowed to... to....” She saw where her dad was headed with that and shook her head.

“He tried when I turned sixteen, but Selena wouldn't let him and even Bree told him to leave me alone. And there was nothing he could do because I said no even when he hurt me.”

“He didn't... he didn't... you know.... Force you?”

“Werewolves can't,” Derek stated calmly.

The sheriff swiveled his eyes up to him. “What?”

“We can't force... that. If there is no consent given its nearly impossible for us to force ourselves on anyone. There has been a few cases in history, but its beyond rare. It... violates nature. Animals don't do that.”

“But Cadie said he tried to beat her into it.” Again that rage bubbled beneath the surface.

“Yes is yes, no matter how its given. Its a loophole, more to do with the human part than the animal. Wolves don't attack a female that wont mate with them.”

“Jesus Christ,” her dad breathed out.

Cadie tightened her hold on his hand. “Its okay, dad.”

“No, kiddo. It is far, far from okay.”

He was right, she knew, but there was nothing she could do about it.

“Why didn't he kill Selena?” It was Cora that asked, mimicking her brother's stance at the top of the porch. She found the similarities in them there. The dark clothing and the closed off stance. “If she defied him so much, why not get rid of her?”

“I never really knew,” she answered honestly. “Like I said, I think she was his mate or something close to that in the beginning. She was one of the first members of his pack. He had some sort of... affection for her. I mean, he hurt her sometimes more than anyone else, but he never tried to kill her. He never tried to save her either, but considering the amount of betas that died by his personal hand.... Selena and I should have been a corpse left rotting a long time ago.”

“Honey, that's not comforting.”

She squeezed her dad's hand, hating she had to tell him all of this. She'd gladly keep it all inside if she could. If it wouldn't hurt them by hiding it. “I know, but you need to know. What he is, what he's capable of.”

“Yeah.” He answered her like he knew all of what she said was true, but it didn't hurt any less.

She watched him for a moment, his hung head in profile and not for the last time, wished she'd had the sense to stay away. Surely the not knowing was better than this. Finally though, she turned away, spoke to the ground when she resumed. “It went like that up until a couple of years ago. That's when the Argent's showed up.” She looked up at Chris when she retold the story of that night. Didn't miss the way Allison curled her fingers around her dad's hand, mimicking Cadie's grip on the sheriff. Her dad swore and at the mention of what had happened to the children, the older Argent looked away and his remorse and his shame were palpable. She hated that another's pain eased hers, but the fact that it affected him, a hunter, just as much if in different ways, made a difference.

She included some details that she'd forgotten in the first telling. How Kate had mentioned a brother she had needed to help with another rogue alpha and a niece she thought needed to know the trade. How Cadie caught her scent on Selena's body when she'd dragged herself to her body and those of the children when the hunters had left. Left them hanging there as a message to Andrew, that they were coming for him. How that's where the rest of the pack found her, with the bodies she had cut down laying around her as she cradled Selena's mangled remains. She left out how Andrew brutalized her, blamed her for their deaths, for not protecting them. How she'd screamed at him that she hoped the Argents' found him because he fucking deserved to _die._ It would serve no one for her to spill that nightmare. They already knew he was a monster.

“What happened? Afterwards?” Derek, calm but questing.

Cadie had her hands gripped between her knees, putting pressure to hold everything at bay. “He got crazier, meaner. All the kids were dead so we moved faster, more often, more people died. Nothing could stop him, you know? Then a year ago one of the betas, Paul got caught by hunters. Gerard's scent was all over him. Andrew was... enraged. Beyond that. Decided to strike back.”

“How?” Derek asked the question, but she could see how Chris was all ears. This was the most pertinent information they could have.

“We laid a trap. Some of the betas attacked a couple that was camping. Let the woman get away with obvious signs that it was a werewolf that had done it for ones that knew to look. Left the guy all mangled up at the sight. The hunters showed. Made their presence known real quick. Caught one of the new betas and tortured him to death. It took all night.”

“You knew what was happening?” Erica, horrified, and there was a story there as she clung to Boyd and Cora leaned into them both.

Cadie nodded. “Yeah, we were close by. Andrew watched the whole thing.”

“Why?” Chris now, probing for answers and motives.

“Mainly because Finn had pissed him off. The rest was because it was part of the plan.”

“Andrew sacrificed him?”

“Yeah. Because after that we split up into two groups -like we were scared and the pack was disintergrating- and made it known to the hunters tracking us. They fragmented their forces, but it also divided up our strength. Without Andrew we were weak.”

“What happened then?”

“Gerard led the party that followed Bree's group. It was sheer luck that I ended up with Andrew otherwise I'd be dead. I think Gerard thought he was on Andrew's trail or maybe he knew exactly who he was following and hoped to use her against him. Either way, Andrew and the betas obliterated the hunters that followed us and then we tracked down Bree's group. There wasn't much left by the time we reached them.”

“What do you mean? They were all dead?” Again, the older Argent, trying to make sense of her words.

“Most of them. Bree was still alive and a couple others, but barely and she didn't make it through. We found them at night and the rest of the pack fell on them. It was weird though, because they never tried to kill Andrew. They tried tranking him, it looked like and they even tried to collar him. The others they used bullets on, but not him. But he got out of it every time and pretty soon there weren't very many hunters left. The old man called a retreat and that was the last we saw of them.”

“What?” Melissa now that asked the question.

“That was it. We never saw the hunters again. Andrew thought it was because he scared Gerard, but I was never sure of it.”

“And you were right.” She looked up at Chris when he spoke, but it was Allison that finished the statement.

“He found an alpha that was easier for him to get a hold of.”

“I don't understand.”

The older Argent took back the explanation. “My father was dying we found out. Apparently, he came to the conclusion he'd rather be a werewolf and alive than human and dying in a hospital bed coughing out his life.”

Her eyes widened. “He was trying to catch Andrew so he could get bitten?”

“Yeah.”

Her eyes swiveled around the mass of people around her, finally landing on Derek and his downcast eyes. “He came after you.”

Her new alpha met her gaze. “Yes. If not for Scott, Gerard would be a werewolf, probably an alpha after he killed me.”

“You said he's dead, right? And Kate?”

“Yes.”

She let out a shaky breath. “Okay. Okay.”

“Cadie?” She looked up at her name into those ice cool eyes of Chris Argent. “How'd you escape? And why after all those years?”

“I'd like to know the answer to that too, kiddo.”

She tried a smile for her dad, but it was small and faded quickly. “After what happened with Bree, there was nothing holding Andrew back and with him wild, the others got worse. It... got to be too much. So when I got sent out on a run alone, I just took off. I don't know what possessed me. I just knew that if I stayed, I was going to die and trying to get away seemed a better way to go than just staying and waiting for it.” It still made her tremble to think of it. It was only a couple of weeks ago after all. “I stole some money from some lady in a coffee shop and bought a bus ticket for whatever was leaving at that moment. I got off at every bus for the next three stops, buying tickets going in a different direction from the one I had just come from. I did that all the way down to Phoenix then made my way to Las Vegas and then LA. I didn't really have any idea where I was going, just away. Maybe Idaho. I knew two other omegas of a different pack we'd met once. Thought maybe I could find them and.... I don't even know. And then the next thing I know is I'm standing outside the house. And then I'm inside and you find me, dad.”

The sheriff pulled her into his arms and she tucked her head under his chin and held on. Pressed her ear to the steady bump of his heart, the even rise and fall of his lungs. Closed her eyes as he stroked her hair and tried to let herself _believe._ That she was safe, that it was over for now. That there was a pack around her that wouldn't hurt her. That the Argents' before her weren't the monsters of her nightmares. They were only half truths, though. Andrew and the rest of the pack were out there and he'd search for her ( _was_ ). Not because she mattered, but because she dared to defy him. She was something he couldn't have in his manic world and needed to be taken care of. His obsession for control would drive him after her, to the ends of the Earth and the destruction of his pack if need be. She just hoped that happened before he found her. Before he ripped all this away and made it something ugly. Something she'd regret with her last dying breath.

Chris Argent asked her a few more questions about Andrew's pack. Where they'd been when she took off, the places they had frequented, any contacts they may have had. She answered what she could, hoping that her information would lead to Argent finding Andrew and taking him out before he found Beacon Hills. Before he found what she loved and ripped it to shreds. It felt weird though, giving out all his secrets. Like betrayal. He'd been her maker and her alpha for nearly twenty years. That had been her pack no matter what they had done to her. She'd felt it when each one died and sometimes it felt like she had no body because all the pieces had been ripped away one by one. But as her dad helps her stand to guide her to Stiles' jeep so they can go to the station, the members of the Hale pack all find an opportunity to touch her. Cora brushing her shoulder with hers as she steps by her. Jackson's fingers curling against hers for a breath and Lydia pulling something from the hoodie she wore. Scott hugging her before he goes to Allison. Erica fixing her messy bun and Boyd patting her shoulder. Isaac standing with his hands in his pockets, looking unsure until she bumps him playfully. He laughs a little and bumps back and then Derek is walking by to follow his sister into the house, his hand cupping the back of her neck as he passes, heat shimmering down her spine in the wake of that.  And it feels like maybe she's finding those missing pieces, gathering them back to herself to put herself back together again. Better this time, perhaps without the ragged edges of abuse. How she was meant to be, before Andrew tried so hard to destroy her.

At the station, she tells a story of a bear attack after her grandpa got a flat tire. Of wandering alone for two days until a recluse found her and raised her. How she'd only come looking for her real family when her surrogate mother died and she found her grandpa's old IDs stashed away and put the pieces together enough to find Beacon Hills. (Argent is already fabricating evidence to support the story if anyone should go digging that deep.) They take her fingerprints, her picture and lastly her and her dad's DNA to prove that she is who she says she is. (She had worried about that last, but again Argent had intervened and told them unless they were looking for anomalies, everything should be fine with a simple DNA scan.)

Finally they let her go and her dad takes the next two days off and then they're home. They all end up on the couch, her in the middle bracketed by dad and Stiles and she lets herself fall asleep to the sound of the TV. To the scent of her family wrapped tight around her and their voices filling her ears, blocking out the screams of her memories.

**Author's Note:**

> The characters feel a little OOC to me sometimes, but that happens with too many read-through's. Let me know what you think!


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